


Morning Fears

by aloevera



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Secret Relationship, dad luke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 21:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloevera/pseuds/aloevera
Summary: You met Dylan Hemmings your freshman year of college when she was assigned to be your very first roommate. With her came her father, Luke. You never expected Dylan to become your best friend and you certainly never expected your small crush on Luke to become anything more. But life is funny that way.(An AU in which Luke is a single father who falls for his daughter's best friend. Luke is about 43/44 in this fic, reader is 22.)





	1. Morning Fears

“So, how does it feel to be a college graduate?”

 

You glance up from the pale pink drink on the table in front of you and blink as you take in the increasingly familiar sight of Luke, your random freshman year roommate-turned best friend’s father. He smiles warmly at you as he takes the empty seat to your right and slides a glass of water in front of you. After a quiet thank you, you take a sip before you contemplate the answer to his question.

 

“Doesn’t feel much different, if I’m honest,” you answer with a small smile as you tap your nails against the glass. “Maybe it just hasn’t hit me, maybe it won’t hit me until I’m finished with grad school. It just doesn’t feel like an accomplishment, you know? It doesn’t feel as powerful as I thought it would.”

 

Luke frowns at your answer and shifts in his seat to move a little closer to you. “It is an accomplishment,” he reminds you gently, “you worked hard. Everyone could see by the ten pounds of regalia you wore today.” When a small laugh leaves your lips, Luke grins and reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re not the same person I met when I moved Dylan into her dorm four years ago. You’ve grown so much and surpassed any and all expectations for you. It might not feel like it until you graduate for good but you’ve done something incredible. I know your parents are beyond proud of you. They gushed the entire ceremony,” he informs you with a grin, “and, I know it might not mean much, but I’m proud of you, too.”

 

You smile at Luke’s encouraging words, in awe of how quickly he could switch from being the goofy dad-next-door stereotype to someone who knows exactly what you need to hear. “It actually really means a lot to me. Thank you, Luke,” you inform him with a nod and truly mean every word.

 

You’ve never known why, never been able to understand it, but the moment you met Luke four years ago, you wanted to impress him. You wanted him to be proud of you, to see you as an adult who could take care of herself and not a dumb kid who needed someone to hold her hand and walk her through life. You wanted him to see you as an equal, not just his daughter’s best friend. And although you know that he probably means he’s proud of you in the way that he’s proud of Dylan, it still thrills you to know that you’ve at least gotten that far.

 

You think that maybe the reason you’re so desperate to make him see you as an adult, to make him proud, is because of the small crush you’ve had on him since the day you met. Watching him lift boxes and look incredible while simultaneously cracking the best, lamest dad jokes you’d ever heard was something that you hadn’t expected to like so much but couldn’t help falling for. And now you’re reminded of just how deep your crush runs as you glance at the exposed sliver of his chest peeking out of his shirt.

 

You try to be discreet, only looking when he’s glancing out at the partygoers milling about the party space, as you allow your eyes to rake over the silver necklace that you’d never seen him without, the one that stops just above the first fastened button, before they dip down to take in the deep burgundy of his button down. You have to bite your cheek to stop a groan from leaving your lips as your eyes rake over his thighs in the same black pants he’d worn to the graduation ceremony earlier in the day and you want to drop your head to the table and ask forgiveness as you imagine sitting on them.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

You blink at the suddenness of Luke’s question and nod quickly. “Fine,” you hum, “I’m okay. Just a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

 

“I can imagine,” Luke nods. He pauses for a moment before he returns his full attention to you. “Do you have a ride home?”

 

“Dylan and Alex are supposed to give me a ride home,” you inform him as you take a look around the back yard, searching for your best friend’s familiar head of curly blonde hair. When you don’t see it, you frown and reach for your cellphone. “Uh, at least, I hope they’re going to give me a ride home.”

 

Luke frowns as he informs you, “Dylan left about thirty minutes ago.”

 

“Fuck,” you sigh as you glance at your cellphone and notice the text from Dylan telling you exactly the same thing. “Well, Uber it is, then,” you huff as you tap the app on your cellphone and wait for it to load.

 

“I could take you home,” Luke offers with a shrug, “I know it’s probably safe for you to take an Uber but I don’t like the idea of you alone with a stranger.”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you shake your head as you glance up at him, “it’s fine, honestly. You probably have something better to do than drive me home. No worries.”

 

Luke breathes a laugh as he shakes his head. “I cleared my day for the ceremony and the party. I’m all yours,” he informs you before he quickly adds, “if you want me to take you home. I don’t have any other plans.”

 

You smile at Luke’s offer and nod. “If you’re sure it’s not a bother,” you agree, “thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m not going to lie, I hate taking cabs or Ubers or something if I’m alone. My mom’s always telling me how dangerous it is and it kind of freaks me out.”

 

Luke nods seriously as he offers you his hand to help you out of your chair. “I understand where she’s coming from,” he informs you as he begins leading you out of the ballroom, “it’s dangerous out there. I’m glad you and Dylan are practically attached at the hip. Makes me feel better knowing you both have someone to watch out for you.”

 

With that, the two of you fall silent as you make your way out of the venue. Your mind is clouded with a frustrating mixture of lust, guilt, and nerves as you allow yourself to slip back into your thoughts. Being alone with Luke is somewhat new, you’re still not entirely sure how to behave yourself without Dylan’s presence, and it’s enough to send your heart thumping as you peek over at him.

 

Despite his age, or maybe because of it, he's still incredibly handsome. The years have been kind to him, you think, as you take in the soft curls of his hair and the stubble lining his jaw. His eyes are a beautiful blue, kind and shining, and they make you want to lose yourself in them. You want to grin at his nose and that’s how you know you’re completely fucked, when the image of waking up beside him and kissing his nose with a soft ‘good morning’ flashes through your brain. But you can’t seem to help yourself, despite the nagging feeling of guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

 

You’ve never felt this way, never wanted anyone so badly, and at first you were unsure of whether it was the fact that he seemed so unattainable or the fact that he just genuinely made you feel so strongly. Now, however, staring up at him, you know that it’s a genuine feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach, settling in right alongside the guilt. You genuinely want him, you’re certain of that. What you remain unsure of is whether or not he wants you back.

 

As you stare up at him, you can’t help your spiraling thoughts.

 

What if he actually does want you? What if something were to happen between the two of you? What would Dylan think? What would your parents think? Would it be an actual relationship or a meaningless hookup? Is it wrong to want him? Does it make you a bad person to want to be with him? Would it make him a bad person to want to be with you?

 

“You’re spacing out on me again.”

 

You blink away your thoughts and focus on Luke who looks somewhat concerned, despite the teasing tone to his voice. “I’m okay,” you assure him quickly, a small smile quirking your lips, “just thinking, sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t apologize. It’s alright,” Luke assures you as he opens the passenger door for you, “we all get lost in our thoughts.” Luke shuts the door and rounds the car as you settle into your seat. As he buckles his own seatbelt, he tells you, “You don’t have to, of course, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. I can’t promise I won’t laugh if it’s embarrassing, but I will listen.”

 

You roll your eyes but can’t help the giggle that leaves your lips at Luke’s teasing. Luke looks pleased with himself as he hears the sound of your giggle. He grins widely at you before the starts the car and asks you to direct him to your apartment. The moment he pulls out of the parking lot, Luke turns the radio up and you grin as Ozzy Osbourne begins pouring from the speakers.

 

A soft smile graces Luke’s lips as he watches you quietly sing along to Mr. Crowley. You look so content in the moment, happy and free in a way that he rarely sees you, and he’s suddenly reminded of the person he met nearly four years ago. You seem to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders now, you seem jaded and hardened by the four years that have passed, and Luke is happy to see some of that melt away if only for a moment.

 

Luke continues the playlist of classic rock as he drives you to your apartment and even sings along to a few of the songs with you, grinning widely as he watches you begin to truly enjoy yourself. By the time he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you’re fully channeling your inner Joan Jett and he wants to turn the car around and keep driving, just to keep the carefree smile on your lips. But as the final chords of Crimson and Clover fade out, you realize where you are and a quiet sigh he’s sure he wasn’t meant to hear spills from your lips.

 

However, as quickly as your genuine smile faded, a smile that Luke can instantly pinpoint as fake replaces it. “Thank you for bringing me home,” you nod, your appreciation genuine though your smile is not. “I really appreciate it.”

 

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for letting me bring you home,” he smiles. “Have fun with your parents in the morning,” he urges, “Dylan told me you guys were going to get breakfast before you head home for a few days.”

 

“Oh,” you nod slowly, “uh. Plans changed a bit. My mom got sick during the ceremony. They left as soon as I got off stage with my diploma. They headed home earlier. I’m driving back by myself tomorrow.” Luke’s smile falls as he watches you attempt to keep your tone even. “It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, “we’re having a party for me and my cousins who’re graduating high school this weekend. So, we’ll celebrate then.”

 

“But you’re going to be alone tonight,” he prompts, “and on your drive home tomorrow?” When you shrug, his frown deepens. “You should be celebrating tonight. You should be too hungover to drive tomorrow. You should be surrounded by people who love you tonight.”

 

You smile softly at Luke’s words and shrug. “It’s really not a big deal,” you laugh slightly, “it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. I’ll probably still be too hungover to drive tomorrow. It’ll just be because of wine and Chopped reruns. Like I said, this doesn’t really feel like that big of a thing, anyway.” When Luke opens his mouth to argue, you truly laugh. “If you’re so concerned about me being alone, you’re free to come up and watch an episode or two of Chopped with me. I have to warn you, though, I’ve seen all of them so I can tell you who wins the moment I see the first chef appear.”

 

Luke laughs at this, his frown lightening for a moment, before he hesitates. You think he’s going to tell you that he shouldn’t, that he needs to head home, but to your surprise, he nods. “I suppose I’ll have to try and guess before you can tell me who wins, then,” he teases as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “And maybe keep you from getting too hungover to drive in the morning.”

 

“My hero,” you retort with a playful roll of your eyes as Luke steps out and rounds the car before you can get your seatbelt unbuckled. Luke nods his acknowledgement when you thank him and gestures for you to lead the way up the stairs. “I have to warn you before you come in,” you murmur as you search through your bag for your keys, “my place looks like a hurricane hit it. Between packing for the trip home, getting ready for graduation, and work, I haven’t had much time to clean.”

 

Luke rolls his eyes at this because he knows you. He knows that you’re the tidiest twenty-something he’s ever met (every time he visited when you and Dylan lived together, the only cleaning supplies to be found were tucked away in your closet. Hell, he even walked in on you cleaning the apartment Dylan lived in alone after you both moved into one-bedroom places of your own).

 

He’s imagining a pair of shoes scattered near the door or makeup left on the bathroom counter but he’s surprised to find a duffle bag left open on the dining table, clothes scattered around it. He raises an eyebrow at the wine glass on the coffee table and shakes his head amusedly when you grin sheepishly at him. The apartment does look messy by your standards but, to him, it’s another glimpse into a side of you he’s not usually privy to.

 

“Do you want something to drink?” you ask, pulling him from his thoughts. “Um, I have wine, obviously,” you laugh as you step around him to grab the glass from the table, “I have Jack, some rum, some vodka… I also have, like, non-alcoholic stuff, too. Juice, I think, and some water. I have some La Croix that Dylan drinks and a soda but, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t drink that. I feel like it’s been in there since I moved in and I doubt it’s any good anymore. I should throw that away…” Luke watches as you scramble around, tidying the mess that he knows is killing you inside, with an amused smile on his lips.

 

He remains in his spot near the door for a moment, just watching, before he steps toward the living area and begins helping. He’s tidied up the coffee table, straightened papers and returned books to the shelf beneath your television, by the time you notice he’s helping and before you can argue that he doesn’t have to, he shakes his head. “I know it’ll be on your mind the entire time if your apartment is “messy” and someone is here to witness it,” he hums as he folds the large knit throw over the back of the couch, “even if you know that someone has a daughter whose definition of cleaning is kicking things under the bed or into the closet. How did you even deal with sharing a living space with Dylan?”

 

“It was a challenge,” you laugh as you zip your duffle bag, now filled to the brim with clothes, and place it in a chair in the corner, “but she gets it honest, I’m sure.”

 

“Hey,” Luke frowns playfully, his eyes still shining with amusement, “I’m a busy man. I clean when I can.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever really seen the desk in your office,” you laugh as you step around him to get into the kitchen, “is there actually a desk under all those papers?” Luke shakes his head at your question, his lips quirking into a smile as he shrugs, but says nothing to defend himself. With a triumphant grin, you grab a clean wine glass from your cabinet and turn back to him. “So, drink?”

 

“Just water, please,” he requests as he leans against the kitchen counter and watches you pour your glass full of grape juice. “I see you’ve decided against the hangover.”

 

“Mm,” you nod as you hand him his glass, “figured I’d be annoyed enough with the traffic. But juice always feels better when you drink it out of a real glass. Now, Chopped marathon or no?” Luke gestures for you to lead the way with a smile and follows you back to the couch. “My Hulu’s already pulled up. You can just find Chopped. I’m going to go change out of this dress really quick,” you inform him as he settles at one end of the couch.

 

“Take your time,” he nods, “it’ll give me a head-start trying to figure out who wins before you can spoil it for me.”

 

“A man with a plan,” you nod, your tone light as you laugh and head down the hall, “I like it!”

 

Luke laughs at your words and you try not to let yourself dwell as you search your drawers for a pair of comfortable (but still cute) pajamas.

 

You try not to think about the fact that Luke, a man you’ve had a crush on for nearly four years even though you shouldn’t, is sitting on your couch, waiting to watch Chopped with you. You try not to think about the fact that you’ve been laughing and joking like you’re old friends. You try not to think about the fact that he’s treating you the way you’ve always wished.

 

You try not to think about how badly you’d like for this to be more than just him pitying you. You try not to think about how nice it would be to come home to Luke, waiting to watch Chopped with you and laugh as you ultimately spoil every episode, after a long day at work. You try not to think about how badly you’d like to curl up beside him, his arms wrapped around you and his fingers gently combing through your hair as he listened to you ramble about anything and everything. You try not to think about how nice it would be to kiss him, to feel his lips against yours and his hands on your hips.

 

You try not to think about how you shouldn’t want any of this.

 

But you can’t help yourself as the overwhelming flood of thoughts returns to the forefront of your mind as you pull out a pair of shorts that aren’t too short or too frumpy, a t-shirt that’s still completely in tact, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Before the thoughts can fully consume you, you strip out of your party dress and pull on your pajamas. You attempt to calm your racing heart as you return to the living room and settle onto the opposite end of the couch, leaving as much space between the two of you as possible.

 

“Figure out who’s going to win yet?” you question as you do your best to keep your tone light.

 

“Not yet,” Luke hums before he turns his head and fully looks at you. When he catches sight of you, clad in your pajamas and looking softer than he’s ever seen you, he can’t help but smile.

 

“What?” you question, your eyebrows quirked in confusion and a slight frown on your lips.

 

Luke shakes his head, a smile still on his lips, as he tells you, “You look so cute. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed down. Even when you stayed over with Dylan, you were in jeans every time I saw you.”

 

“I’m not cute,” you huff, “and I’m sure you’ve seen me in clothes that aren’t, like, clothes. I’m sure I’ve worn shorts or something at the beach or around the pool.”

 

“I’ve never seen it,” Luke shrugs, “always jeans. And definitely never fuzzy penguin socks. Those are my favorite, by the way.”

 

“Okay, well. Now you’re just being mean,” you huff as you curl your feet beneath you in an attempt to cover your socks.

 

Luke laughs as you turn your head away from him and pretend to focus on the television. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of whether or not he’d be crossing any boundaries, before he decides to say fuck it and reaches out to gently tug at your ankle. “I promise I wasn’t making fun of your socks,” he assures you with a soft smile as he convinces you to straighten your legs and prop your feet in his lap, “I really do love them. They’re cute. It’s nice to see you like this, soft and at home. I always see this tough exterior, this girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, so it makes me happy to see you this way.”

 

You’re not sure if you should play this off with a joke or if you should share your thoughts with Luke. You’re not sure if he will laugh at you, if he’ll play it off himself with a smile and a witty comment, but you can’t help yourself. You quietly inform him, “I like you seeing me this way. I’m comfortable with you.”

 

Luke wants to believe that he imagined the softness in your tone. He wants to believe that you don’t mean those words in the way that he knows you do. He wants to believe that you just see him as a positive adult figure but as he looks at you, truly looks at you, he knows that that isn’t the case. He can see the apprehension in your eyes, the fear of rejection or judgement or a lecture, and it sends a pang that he hasn’t felt in years surging through his chest. He knows it’s a bad idea, knows that he should let you down gently before either of you get hurt, but he can’t bring himself to crush your heart. So, instead of moving his hands and nudging you back to your side of the couch, he gently traces his fingers along your shin and smiles softly at you.

 

“I’m glad,” he nods and you can feel the sincerity in the statement as he gently squeezes your ankle, “I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

 

The two of you fall silent, his words settling in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing. The feeling of his fingers on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they gently brush across your shin, combined with the gentleness of his tone sends your mind reeling. And before you can truly register what you’re doing, you’re whispering, “Is it bad that I really want to kiss you?”

 

Luke wants to say yes, wants to tell you that it’s a bad idea and that you shouldn’t want him, but he can’t. Not when you’re looking at him with the most wide-eyed look of sincerity he’s ever seen. Not when you’re jumping, hoping he’ll be there to catch you.

 

He can’t tell you that when he feels exactly the same way.

 

So, he shakes his head. “Only if it’s bad that I really want to kiss you,” and it feels as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. You find yourself unable to breathe, unable to think, and you feel as if you’ll wake up at any moment to the harsh ringing of your alarm, only to find that this was all a dream. But when Luke shifts and looks at you, concern clearly written on his face, do you realize that this is real.

 

“I don’t care, then,” you whisper before he can ask if you’re alright, “I don’t care if it’s bad. Please, kiss me.”

 

Luke knows that he should refuse. At the very least, he should hesitate. You’re his daughter’s best friend, for crying out loud. But he doesn’t. The moment the words leave your lips, he’s pulling you closer and reaching out to gently cup your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours.

 

He feels any semblance of doubt disappear the moment a content sigh leaves your lips and you relax against him. You settle closer to him, as close as you can get with your thighs draped over his lap, and reach up to tangle your fingers in his curls. Luke relaxes into the couch, sighing contentedly as he feels your lips moving with his. The two of you lose yourselves in one another, the world around you ceasing to exist as you focus on finally feeling Luke against you after four years of pining, and you’re content to spend the rest of your life right here.

 

But your lungs, unable to stick with the program, pull you away from Luke to take in a deep breath. As you blink at him, your chest heaving and lips slightly swollen, Luke can’t help but gently brush his thumbs over your cheekbones. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes as soft as his tone.

 

“So are you,” you breathe, “you make my heart feel like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

 

Luke smiles at this. He remembers the feeling from his own days in college, remembers how confusing feelings were in the beginning, and he wants to tell you that it’s simultaneously one of the best and worst feelings in the world, but he doesn’t want to remind you of just how old he is. He doesn’t want to remind you that he has so much more life experience than you, that he understands because he’s been there, so he doesn’t address it. Instead, he whispers, “Could I kiss you again?”

 

You don’t respond verbally. You shift so that you’re a little more comfortable tucked into his side and return your lips to his. This kiss is different than the first, you think, as his hands move from your cheeks, down your arms, to rest at your hips. His grip is gentle, a barely there pressure that you’re all too aware of, as he deepens the kiss. You feel any thought that doesn’t consist of Luke, of his hands and his mouth, slip from your mind as you shift to place a knee on either side of his thighs without breaking the kiss.

 

Luke’s grip on your hips tightens slightly as you shift on his lap to get more comfortable. You can feel him hardening in the black pants that hug his thighs just the way you like and the idea that this could go further than a makeout session on your couch has you tugging at his curls a little harder than before. His fingers dip beneath them of your t-shirt, thumbs brushing your hipbones as he groans against your lips.

 

“Are you sure about this, pretty girl?” Luke questions, his voice quiet as he pulls away just enough to see your face.

 

“So sure,” you breathe, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. “I’m an adult, Luke. I know what I want and that’s you. Please.”

 

Luke searches your eyes for any hint of doubt. In them, he sees certainty clouded by lust and that’s enough to have him nodding. He shouldn’t he knows that. He should stop this before it goes any further. But he can’t help himself as the words spill past his lips. “Up, then,” he breathes as he taps your hip, “don’t want to do this on your couch.”

 

If it had been any other time, Luke would’ve laughed at your slight stumble as you climb off of his lap and reach out for his hand. But as your fingers curl around his and you lead him down the hall to your bedroom, decorated in blacks and reds and far more sensual than he would’ve imagined, laughing at your clumsiness is the farthest thing from his mind.

 

The moment you step through the doorway, Luke’s hands are back on you. It’s as if a switch has flipped in his mind as he returns his hands to your hips and pulls you so that you’re flush against his body. He reconnects your lips in a kiss that is a mess of teeth and tongue, of passion and lust and lowered inhibitions, as he allows his hands to begin wandering. You feel him brush the swell of your ass, his touch gentle and unhurried as you allow your own hands to drift.

 

While you work diligently to unbutton the remaining buttons of Luke’s shirt, his hands move to dip beneath your t-shirt and splay across your ribcage. His fingertips trace the band of your bra, lightly brushing the patterns of the lace, and you shiver at the featherlight feeling tickling your skin. The cool metal of his rings feels heavenly against your skin and you almost whine at the loss of it before you feel him cup your breasts and gently squeeze.

 

“They feel better without a bra,” you breathe against his lips as you pull away to catch your breath.

 

“They feel pretty damn good _with_ a bra,” he laughs but pulls away and allows you to nudge his button down off his shoulders before he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt. Your shirt joins his on the floor and his breath catches at the sight of you standing before him. He’s seen you in bikinis, seen you in crop tops, but he’s never let himself truly look. Now, though, he feels as if he can’t tear his eyes away. “Fuck,” he breathes as his eyes rake over the black lace, “you’re so beautiful.”

 

When you dip your head to hide your face, Luke gently grips your chin and tilts your head up to face him. “I mean it,” he assures you, “you are so beautiful and if you’ll let me, I’d love to show you how beautiful I find you.” Unable to do more, you nod at Luke’s request and return your hands to his shoulders as he dips his head to press searing kisses to your neck. He begins walking you backward, his lips never leaving your skin, and only stops when your knees hit the foot of your mattress and your knees buckle. “Take your bra for me, pretty girl,” he breathes and you swear you feel your heart stop as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your shorts and tugs them down your legs.

 

Your bra joins the pile of clothes as Luke settles in front of you and you’re certain that your panties are noticeably soaked as Luke gently nudges your thighs apart to step between them. He takes his time; presses kisses down the column of your throat, brushes his lips across your collarbones, nips at your chest, and pauses when he comes to your breasts. His fingers gently pinch and tug at one nipple while his mouth envelops the other. His tongue swirls around the hardening bud, warm and enough to leave you thoughtless and floating in the pleasure of Luke.

 

After giving your breasts the same treatment, Luke drags kisses down your stomach, across your collarbones, and just above the waistband fo your panties as he settles on his knees before you. “Lie back, princess,” he hums against your skin, his eyes lifting to look at you and you swear you’re going to combust before the night’s over.

 

Luke continues to move slowly as he avoids the area you want him the most and nudges your thighs further apart. He places kisses along your inner thighs, nipping and sucking at the skin and leaving small marks in his wake as he gets as close to the apex of your thighs as he can without actually touching you. You’re certain that he’s doing it to drive you insane, to rile you up, but as he presses a kiss to your folds through your panties, you realize that this isn’t meant to be teasing. This is meant to be foreplay. And you don’t know if you can handle an entire night of this.

 

But then Luke tugs your panties down your legs, tosses them with the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and you’d gladly take an entire night of this as you feel his tongue brush your folds. He’s in no hurry as his tongue explores your folds, his nose bumps your clit, and his hands grip your thighs to keep you spread open for him. After what feels like a lifetime of him exploring with just his mouth, Luke shifts so that his shoulders is pressing against your thigh, freeing one hand to bring his fingers to your entrance. He starts you off slow, one finger slipping into your heat and giving you a moment to adjust to the intrusion, before a second joins and he’s working you open.

 

As his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers tap repeatedly at the small spot that has your thoughts blanking and your you feel the coil forming in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging a little harder than you intended, as you clench around his fingers and Luke shifts just enough to breathe, “Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me see how beautiful you look when you cum,” before he returns his lips to your clit and works his fingers just a bit faster.

 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you fall over the edge and just how hard you cum but you can’t bring yourself to care as you lose yourself in the afterglow of your orgasm. Luke’s fingers are gentle against your thighs as he brushes your heated skin and you’re not sure what to do other than reach out and grab his hand.

 

“So beautiful like this,” he breathes as he stands. He leans over you, his hands on either side of your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips and you groan at the taste of yourself on his lips.

 

“Need you, please,” you whisper against his mouth, “want you.”

 

Luke nods, his fingers moving to brush stray pieces of hair from your face, as he presses another kiss to your lips. “You’ve got me,” he assures you as he pulls away to unbuckle his belt. “Can you move up for me, pretty girl?”

 

You push yourself up and move to the head of the bed as you watch Luke shove those sinful black pants and his underwear down his legs. He kicks them off, lets them join the mess of other clothes, and climbs onto the bed to hover above you. The silver chain around his neck is sandwiched between the two of you, the silver a cool contrast to the warmth of Luke’s chest pressing against yours, as he presses one more kiss to your lips. “Do you have any condoms, pretty girl?”

 

“Nightstand,” you whisper, still slightly dazed from your orgasm, and Luke nods.

 

He grabs the foil packet from a box in the corner of your nightstand and rolls the latex onto his cock before he pauses and stares down at you. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, one more time. “If you’re not, I’ll stop.”

 

“I’m so sure,” you nod, your tone pleading, “please, don’t stop.”

 

Luke nods at this and places one hand on your hip as the other grips the base of his cock. His lips are on yours as he brushes your folds with the head of his cock, effectively distracting you as he begins to sink into your heat. You can tell that the torturously slow pace he’s set will continue through the night as he takes his time fully seating himself inside of you. And by the time he’s sheathed to the hilt, you’re already on edge. He gives you a moment to adjust, a moment to process that this is truly happening, before you’re clenching around him and he can’t help himself.

 

His free hand rubs slow, loose circles over your clit as he fucks into you slow and deep. You can feel every thrust, every drag of his cock inside of you, and it’s maddening. Your moans are spilling freely now, any concern you might’ve felt for your neighbors long gone as Luke’s eyes meet yours. You want this to last forever, want this moment on a loop, but you can feel yourself moving closer to your orgasm by the second. And when Luke snaps his hips just right, buries himself into your heat in just the right way, you cum for the second time and clench around him so tightly that all Luke can do is give you a moment to ride it out,.

 

He moves to pull out, to finish himself off, but you grip his wrist and shake your head. “I’m okay,” you assure him, your breathing ragged, “you can keep going.” He looks like he wants to argue but you clench around him and his resolve crumbles.

 

You’re so sensitive, every nerve ending in your body feels as if it’s on fire, but you wouldn’t trade the feeling of Luke chasing his orgasm for anything. And when he grunts, breathes your name in such a reverent tone that it’s almost overwhelming, you can’t help the moan that spills past your lips.

 

Luke is gentle as he pulls out, both of you groaning at the loss. He ties the condom, tosses it into the small trashcan by your bed, and settles in beside you. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should wrap you in his arms, but when you shift closer to him, he decides that there’s no more harm to be done. So he pulls you tight to his chest, presses a kiss to your forehead, and tugs the blankets up and over the two of you as he feels the both of you drifting.

 

And while Luke falls asleep fairly quickly, your thoughts return full force and force you to lie awake. You wonder if this meant as much to him as it did to you, if this is going to happen again. You wonder if anything will come of this.

 

But then you think of Dylan. You think of your best friend, the one who has been there for you through some of the hardest times, who you just betrayed. And your stomach turns.

 

No matter how you feel, no matter how Luke feels; you can’t shake the pure terror that fills your veins at the thought of Dylan finding out. And you know that if this happens again, it’ll only increase the chances of her finding out. So as Luke sleeps soundly beside you, you wonder if this is worth it. You wonder if you’ll still feel as strongly for him when morning comes or if your senses will return with the morning light.


	2. Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following graduation night, you haven’t seen Luke. You’ve barely spoken to Dylan. You feel overwhelmed and anxious but you can’t miss Dylan’s engagement party. So, you put on your best dress and decide that Luke can wait until after the party is over.

The eerie green glow emanating from your alarm clock mixes with the dusty orange of the street light just outside your window and illuminates your bedroom ceiling as you find yourself unable to sleep yet again. Nights spent tossing and turning, battling the cacophony of thoughts rampantly running through your mind, are more frequent than they’ve ever been. You know exactly why you can’t sleep, why you can’t seem to quiet your brain long enough to truly rest, but that doesn’t stop you from hoping that the string of sleepless nights will end.

 

Two weeks have passed since graduation; two weeks since the night you shared with Luke; two weeks since you’ve had a proper night’s sleep.

 

You’ve managed to isolate yourself from nearly everyone in an effort to quiet your deafening thoughts. You’ve managed to bury yourself in a new project at work and adequately excuse yourself from social obligations but the loneliness has only worsened your spiraling emotions. You can’t keep the anxiety bubbling in your chest, eating at your nerves and setting you on edge, at bay. And not having your confidant, your rock, your _person_ , to lean on is enough to make you feel like you’re going to drown beneath the waves of overwhelming emotion surging in the pit of your stomach.

 

You’ve spoken to Dylan a handful of times, each only to assure her that you're alright and just incredibly busy with work now that you have ample time to focus on more than one assignment. Your calls never last long as the sound of her voice fills your stomach with fresh waves of guilt and the sight of her blond curls and adorable nose reminds you of Luke. You can’t think about her without feeling the sting of fresh tears and something akin to an injection of icy water in the form of terror running through your veins.

 

You’d thought about her before you actually knew you stood a chance with Luke, thought about her reaction, but actually sleeping with him, having him in your bed and caressing your skin, made it real. It made the disgust you pictured on her face real. It made the anger you imagined she’d feel real. It made the thought that you would end up having to continue living your life without your best friend by your side real. It made the thought that you’d just ruined one of the healthiest father-daughter relationships you’d ever seen real.

 

It made all of the negatives that had previously stopped you from giving Luke anymore attention than was necessary real and you feel like kicking yourself for giving in to your base desires.

 

But the worst part of it all is that despite the overwhelming amount of emotions bubbling in the pit of your stomach, you’re not sure you’d change anything if you were to be given the chance to do so.

 

You don’t regret sleeping with Luke. You feel guilty, yes, and you’re terrified to know what will happen when Dylan finds out (because you’re certain that the guilt will eat you alive if you don’t tell her) but you can’t bring yourself to regret being with him. To you, it wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t a mindless hookup begging to be forgotten. You want it to be the beginning of something bigger, of something real. You want it to be the start of a new chapter in your life. And a part of you, an unreasonable part that you rarely listen to, tells you that Luke wants it, too.

 

The way that he made you feel, the care and affection that he showed you, lets that part of you know that it wasn’t just sex to him either. The fact that you woke up to him still beside you, fingers tracing patterns against your skin and eyes shining warmly as he studied your face, tells you that he feels something. And while you’re terrified that he’ll lose interest in you quickly, realize that he can do better than an insecure twenty-something still finding her way through life, you find yourself desperate for the chance to be with him again.

 

However, coupled with the guilt that you feel when you think about Dylan, the desire you feel for Luke, and the confusion you feel when you attempt to plot your course of action, there’s also a sense of uncertainty that lingers like a dark cloud over your head. While the morning after with Luke had been pleasant, it had left you confused and unsure. And as memories of that morning begin to flood your mind once more, you roll over and bury your face in the pillow to release a whimper of exhaustion.

 

_Luke’s fingers are gentle as they brush errant strands of hair from your eyes. He has a soft smile on his lips, a warmth to his eyes, and it makes your breath catch in your throat as you stare at him in the golden morning light. He looks so beautiful, so soft and warm like this light was made with him in mind, and it forces a shaky breath from your lungs._

 

_“Good morning,” he whispers as his hand gently cups your cheek and his thumb begins brushing your cheekbone, “how’d you sleep?”_

 

_You want to be honest with him, want to tell him that your thoughts had run away with you and that you hadn’t slept at all, but you don’t. Instead, you tell him how you wish you’d slept. You tell him, “I’ve never been able to share a bed. It’s always put me on edge to have someone next to me. But it felt different with you. I wasn’t anxious to get you out of my bed.” And that part is true. Luke’s presence in your bed was comfortable, like he belonged beside you. The soft snores that left his lips were reassuring rather than annoying. The weight of his arm draped over your side was grounding rather than stifling._

 

_You hadn’t remained rigid throughout the night, afraid of waking him. You had remained acutely aware of his presence but you hadn’t minded it at all. Having him sleep beside you felt natural and the thought scares the hell out of you because it floods your mind with images of waking up next to Luke morning after morning, of your bed becoming his, too. It makes you want this to be real, to mean more, and you’re not sure if it can._

 

_Luke smiles at you, the same smile he’d given you the first time you’d laughed at one of his jokes, and you want to melt into him as he beams at you. “I’m honored that you don’t want to kick me out of your bed,” he teases, his tone light although you can see the genuine happiness in his eyes. He hesitates for a moment, a look of uncertainty flashes in his eyes, before he adds, “I haven’t spent the night with anyone in a long time. I wasn’t sure how it would feel but it felt comfortable with you.”_

 

_You want to tell him that you’d gladly let him spend every night with you, that the left side of your bed is his as long as he wants it, but you can’t. You can’t tell him that because you’re terrified. You’re terrified that this doesn’t mean anything. You’re terrified that he’s playing into your fantasy, giving you what you want so that you’ll move on. You’re terrified that he’s playing with you, using you to ease his boredom or solve some midlife crisis. You’re terrified that he’ll wake up and realize that you’re only twenty-two, that he can do better than someone who has no life experience and still has to occasionally call her mother for help. You’re terrified that Dylan will find out and end your friendship or, worse, her relationship with Luke._

 

_You’re so overwhelmed but you don’t want him to second guess himself. You don’t want him to see you as a child who can’t handle her own. So, you keep your emotions to yourself and hope that he can’t read them on your face as you smile._

 

_But he can. Luke can read you like a book. He can pinpoint the moment your real smile melts into a fake one and he wants to tug you closer, brush his fingers over your back in a way that he hopes would be soothing, and beg you to tell him what you’re thinking. But you’ve both shared too much._

 

_You’re both in too deep already and spilling more emotions will make this real. You both know that. So Luke lets you think that you’ve tricked him, lets you think that your smile looks real and that he can’t see the multitude of emotions flickering in your eyes. He decides that it’s easier this way, letting you hide behind a false pillar of strength. And he’s not sure if it’s easier for you or for him._

 

_Either way, he reluctantly glances away from your face and over at the alarm clock on your nightstand. When he sees that it’s nearing nine, he frowns and returns his gaze to your face. “As comfortable as your bed is and as much as I would love to lie here with you all day,” he begins quietly, his heart sinking as he realizes this is most likely going to be over before it even began the moment he gives you an out, “you should get on the road before your parents start to worry. I know your mom likes for you to leave as early as you can. And I need to make a dent in that mountain of paperwork covering my desk that you so tactfully reminded me of last night.”_

 

_The small part of you that wanted Luke to tell you that everything would be alright, to comfort you and guide you through the emotions you’re feeling, is disappointed as it feels like Luke is brushing you off. The rational portion of your brain, however, is telling you that he’s right. You do need to get on the road sooner rather than later and he should clear off his desk, even if it’s just a few sheets of paper. So, you swallow the lump in your throat that feels strangely like rejection and nod. “You should get started on that before it takes over your office,” you agree half-heartedly as you gently untangle yourself from Luke’s grip and sit up, gathering the sheet and covering your bare chest as you do so. “I’m sure my mom’s already called a few times to ask me where I am, anyway.”_

 

_Luke nods in understanding as he slips out of your bed. You try not to look as he searches for his briefs, try not to sigh at the sight of his thighs, but you find yourself sneaking glances as you sit in the middle of your bed. You remain covered only by the sheet as Luke tugs his clothes from the night before back on and when he turns to face you, you’re reminded of exactly why you’d wanted to bring him home._

 

_And when Luke catches sight of you, effortlessly beautiful with messy hair and sleepy eyes, he wants nothing more than to strip back down and climb back into bed with you to waste the day. But he knows that he can’t. Knows that if he stays, it’s over. He’ll be more fucked for you than he already is and he feels guilty enough knowing that he just slept with his daughter’s best friend._

 

_So, he presses a kiss to your forehead, tells you to drive safe, and is out the door before either of you can change your mind. And the lump in your throat that felt like rejection before is now joined by the burn of humiliation as you chastise yourself for thinking that he could’ve ever wanted more._

 

You’re startled awake by the ringing of your cellphone, the emotions still fresh in your mind as you groan at being torn from the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks. Without glancing at the screen, you swipe the answer button and grumble a barely comprehensible, “Hello?”

 

“She’s alive,” a voice you haven’t heard in days cheers, tone light and very awake, and you internally curse yourself for not checking the caller ID as you roll over onto your back and toss your arm over your eyes.

 

“Mm,” you hum before you swallow the lump in your throat and will the thoughts of Luke to leave you. You take a moment to blink back the tears that threatened to spill only moments ago before you sigh, “Very much so. Doesn’t really feel like it, though.”

 

“I can imagine,” Dylan laughs and you can hear her bustling about. You imagine her darting around her apartment, searching for something she’s misplaced, and the guilt is momentarily replaced by fondness before she huffs, “You’ve been killing yourself at work. Anna called me, told me to make you take a few days off. And I will be sure to berate you until you do.” You breathe a genuine laugh at this because you know that Dylan is being incredibly serious. At the sound of your laugh, Dylan hums happily before she continues, “But that can wait a little bit because I was calling to make sure you haven’t forgotten about tonight. I know you’ve been swamped lately so if you have, it’s not a big deal. Take this as your reminder.”

 

You’re silent for a moment, wracking your brain in a desperate bid to remember what could be so special that she needed to call and remind you, before you gasp, “Engagement party! Fuck, D, I’m _so_ sorry. Fucking fuck, I forgot all about it. I’m officially the worst best friend on this planet. Shit.”

 

The guilt that you’d been feeling for weeks now returns full-force, only this time, it’s coupled with the reminder that not only did you betray your best friend by sleeping with her father, you’ve neglected her. You’ve pushed her away when all she wants is to be a part of your life and you feel so incredibly low as you realize you don’t deserve someone like her in your life. You want to kick yourself even harder now as you tug the duvet up and over your head.

 

Although you mean that you’re the worst best friend in more ways than one, Dylan takes it as you overreacting to forgetting the party. “Hey,” she sighs, “don’t. You’ve been busy, I get it. You’re working your ass off and I’m super proud of you for making opportunities for yourself. You basically took care of me for four years. I would’ve never survived college without you so you focusing on yourself is making me so happy. I would personally rather you stay home and sleep tonight but I know you’d never stop apologizing if I let you forget the party. So, this is your personal reminder that the engagement party is happening tonight at that hotel downtown. The one with the insane bar we snuck into freshman year? That one.”

 

You feel your stomach tighten even further into knots as she praises you for your dedication to work and you shake your head, even though she can’t see you. “I’ll be there,” you assure her, your voice strong as you continue, “I’m officially the worst friend on the planet, don’t let me be any worse by not coming to this party.” And even though you’re not sure how you’re going to face her, let alone Luke, you tell yourself that you’ll figure it out as you breathe another apology.

 

“Nope,” she laughs, “we’re not doing this. No more apologies! As long as you get there a little early so we can talk, all is forgiven.”

 

Your heart sinks as she asks to talk to you. Although you know, realistically, that she doesn’t know, it still sends a pang of panic shooting down your spine at the thought of her confronting you about Luke. However, you can’t refuse her. So you nod, although she can’t see you, and assure her, “Of course. I’ll be there.” You hesitate for a moment before you add, “I love you, D. You know that, right?”

 

“Yeah,” she hums, slightly surprised by the seemingly random declaration, one that she very rarely gets from you, “I love you, too. You’re my person, no matter what.”

 

As soon as those words leave her lips, you’re forced to choke back a sob. You cover it with a cough, repeat the words that ring so hollow in your own ears, and bid her goodbye as quickly as you can to avoid the guilt fueled breakdown that you know will come if you stay on the phone any longer. The moment that you hang up, you toss your phone to the side and clench your eyes shut beneath the duvet.

 

The idea of seeing Dylan now makes you feel sick to your stomach. She’s always been able to read you like a book, been able to tell exactly what you’re feeling and know exactly the words to say to make you feel better, but this time, you can’t run to her for comfort. You can’t let on that anything is wrong. You know that you have to put on your best face, that you have to pretend that all is well, and you’re not sure if you can hide this when it feels all consuming.

 

It’s funny, you think, that for a long while, you were perfectly capable of hiding your feelings for Luke. You managed to do it for nearly four years, after all. However, this time is different. This time, you’re unsure of whether or not you’ll be able to make it through the night.

 

You’re unsure of whether or not Luke knows how you feel about him because there weren’t many words shared between the two of you that night. You’re unsure of whether or not Luke _wants_ to know how you feel about him because you’re twenty-something and he can do so much better. You’re unsure of whether or not Luke feels anything for you because maybe he just sees you as his daughter’s best friend. You’re unsure of whether or not Luke wants this to be more than a one night stand because maybe that was a pity fuck and you’re reading too much into it.

 

You’re unsure of how to address this entire situation without wanting to break down in a puddle of overwhelmed tears.

 

But you are sure that you need to address this, mess of tears or not. You are sure that you need to talk to him because you know that you need to at least be able to be in the same room as him. You need to at least be able to look at him without feeling like you’re going to break down, so you resign yourself to further humiliation by resolving to ask him if he has a moment to talk to you.

 

You know that you’ll have to find him alone, somewhere far from Dylan (especially tonight, a night that is supposed to be as light and happy as can be), but you can’t bring yourself to consider asking him to come over again. You’re doubting your ability to control yourself, half-certain that you’ll jump at the chance to have him in your bed again, and you know that inviting him over is a terrible idea. So you decide to avoid him until the last possible second, to keep your distance and stick to the edges of the party until you can get him alone. You resign yourself to confronting him tonight, somewhere far from the party goers and Dylan, and you think that you’ll need an entire bottle of wine just to gather the courage.

 

Dylan, on the other hand, you cannot avoid the entire night.

 

You’re supposed to be there for her, no matter what. Even if she won’t want you by her side once she finds out that you broke her trust, that you betrayed her and slept with Luke, you’re going to be there for her tonight like the best friend you should’ve been all along. You’re going to do your damndest to show her the love and support that she deserves, even if your nerves are shot to hell by the end of the night.

 

So you spend the day steeling your nerves. You convince yourself that everything is going to be alright, that Dylan won’t find out tonight and that you’ll get at least one last hurrah with her before she banishes you from her life. You convince yourself that Luke will be normal, that he won’t treat you any differently than he did the last time you saw him, and that Dylan won’t catch on that something happened. You convince yourself that the night is going to go well.

 

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from twisting your stomach into knots as you search for the dress you’d bought weeks ago with this occasion in mind.

 

It takes nearly twice as long for you to get ready for the party as it normally would. Your hands won’t stop shaking and your mind wanders a little too far when you’re meant to be focusing on choosing a suitable color palette for your makeup. You sip at a glass of wine to calm your nerves and by the time you’re dressed and ready to go, you’re half-certain that you’re going to be able to look Dylan in the eye and pretend that nothing is wrong. You’re even able to make casual conversation with your Uber driver (and stop the icy panic that fills your veins at the memories of the conversation that led to Luke even being in your apartment in the first place) on your way to the hotel so you feel good, better than you have in weeks.

 

Until the moment you pull up to the hotel and you feel your resolve shatter around you.

 

Dylan is waiting for you out front, looking more beautiful than you’ve ever seen her, and you want to cry as you catch sight of the gorgeous white dress that you’d helped her pick out on your last shopping trip before graduation. Beside her stands her fiancé, Alex, and it warms your heart to see the look of pure adoration on his face as he glances down at her. But behind the pair of them stands Luke, hands shoved into his pockets and an unreadable expression on his face, and that’s what does you in.

 

At the sight of him you feel your heart pounding in your chest as you realize that you’re woefully unprepared to see him so soon, but you mournfully realize that there’s nothing you can do now. So, reluctantly, you pay for your ride and smooth your dress as you step out of the car, thankful that Alex offers you his hand to help before Luke can.

 

“Look at you,” Dylan cheers the moment your feet are planted firmly on the ground. She breathes a happy sigh as she wraps her arms around you and squeezes so tight that you’re afraid she’s going to cause internal damage. “I don’t see you for two weeks and you get so much more gorgeous. Look at that dress! I love it more now than I did when you bought it,” she gushes, her stormy blue eyes shining with happiness as she takes in your appearance, “Ugh, I missed you so much!” She squeezes you once more before she releases your body and grips your hands. “Please take a few days off so we can go shopping or just stay home and binge Parks and Rec,” she begs, her lips forming a pout as she meets your eyes, “I’ve been driving Alex crazy, I’m sure.”

 

“You know I love spending time with you,” he assures her happily, his words genuine, before he turns to you with a sincere smile. “But I do second her request for you to take a break. I stopped by to see Anna a few days ago and saw your office. It looks like you’ve been living there.”

 

When you wave them both off, muttering that you’ve just been busy, Dylan huffs and returns her arms to your waist. “Dad,” Dylan hums as she glances at Luke, her arms still wrapped tight around you, “tell her that she needs to take a break. Tell her that it’s not healthy to overwork yourself.”

 

“I don’t think I have much to lecture anyone,” Luke smiles easily, looking you straight in the eye and making you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest, “but Dylan’s right, honey. You’re young. You have all the time in the world to further your career. Don’t overwork yourself. Taking a few days off might be good for you.”

 

Your knees feel weak as you lose yourself in Luke’s gaze. You find yourself unable to respond verbally, certain that your voice will betray every emotion that is coursing through your veins, so you settle for a nod and allow Dylan to take the gesture to mean whatever she wishes. And she wishes it to mean that you’ll take a break.

 

“It’s settled then,” she hums happily as she loops her arm through yours and effectively breaks you free from Luke’s gaze. She squeezes your hand before she grabs Alex’s hand and states, “You’re taking a few days off and I’ll take a few days off and we can just spend some time together to catch up.” She looks positively pleased with herself, ready for the girl’s day that you both know is long overdue, but before she can elaborate further, she stops in her tracks. “Oh, before we go in I have something to ask you!”

 

Dylan instantly drops your arm and Alex’s hand before she reaches to grab both of your hands in hers. “I was going to make this really cheesy and cute,” she grins, teeth on full display and you can feel a real smile of your own tugging at your lips, “but I know you’re a straightforward kind of person. So, I’ll just ask.” She takes a deep breath before she smiles at you and, in the most sincere tone you’ve ever heard her use, says, “You’re my person, my best friend, my rock, my confidant; I love you more than you know. You’ve been there for me every step of the way. You made college the best four years of my life and I’m so thankful that that shitty roommate matching system worked for us. It might’ve given us four terrible suite mates but it gave me you and I can’t imagine the last four years of my life, or the rest of my life, honestly, without you in it.”

 

You feel a lump of emotion forming in your throat and the stinging of tears pricking at your eyes as she squeezes your hands gently. This should be the happiest, purest moment of your friendship, but you feel lower than low as she sings your praises and gushes about your years of friendship. And when she asks, “So, will you be my maid of honor?” you want to break down and tell her everything right then and there but you can’t do it.

 

You can’t ruin her happiness with a single sentence. So you nod. You nod because you’re afraid that sobs will pour from your lips instead of a ‘yes’ but she takes your silence as speechlessness and launches herself forward to pull you into another hug. “I’ve never seen you speechless,” she laughs, tears of her own gathering on her lower lashes, “I’m so proud of myself. I even made you tear up a little!” And you laugh at that because she looks so incredibly proud of herself. When you nod, she squeezes you once more before she pulls away and breathes, “Okay, well. I think this calls for a celebratory drink.”

 

Dylan releases you to grab Alex’s hand, leaving you to trail behind them with Luke at your side. As Dylan chats animatedly to Alex, her tone happy and carefree, Luke reaches over to squeeze your hand gently but releases it quickly and otherwise ignores your presence as you step into the closest ballroom to the entrance.

 

You glance around the room in awe, taking in the white, gold, and royal blue decorations that adorn the space as Dylan watches happily. You allow yourself to get lost in the decor and as you wander the room, you vaguely register Alex speaking to Luke. “Dylan and I are going to get the drinks. We’ll be right back.”

 

“Take your time,” he assures him, his tone light, “we’ll be here.”

 

You expect Luke to say something as you hear Dylan’s heels clicking out of the ballroom and into the small kitchen but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a seat at one of the round tables and watches as you trail your fingers along the wall beneath the row of gilded picture frames. A small smile quirks your lips as you admire the selection of photos that they’ve chosen.

 

You spot photos from the first time that Dylan and Alex met, with you in the background looking less than pleased as you wiped spilled beer from your jeans. You spot the picture that you snuck of them leaving for their first date, both blushing and giggling nervously. You spot a picture from the first Christmas that they spent together, and you remember that you were just out of frame, crunching a candy cane and watching Luke snap picture after picture of his “little girl, growing up too fast.” You spot a picture of the night that Alex asked Dylan to marry him. And, although you feel yourself falling into the memories, none of them can help you shake the feeling of Luke’s eyes burning into your skin.

 

“I never really believed in this,” you whisper, your voice still carrying in the grand room, “in love, I guess. My mom’s been married a million times, my real dad’s miserable and hasn’t found anyone else. I thought no one got a happy ending, you know?” You pause for a moment as you stop in front of a picture of Dylan and Alex from the graduation party and sigh at the look of pure love emanating from his eyes as he stares down at her. You release a shaky breath before you continue, “And then I saw Dylan and Alex together. The way that he looks at her… I can only hope I’m lucky enough to find someone to look at me that way someday.”

 

“I want someone to look at me like I hung the moon and the stars just for them. I want someone to love me, even when I’m being difficult and overthinking for no reason other than that’s just how my brain works. I want someone to love me, all of me, and all of the things that come with that. And some days, I think I’ll find them. I think that they’re right there, that the timing just isn’t right. But most days, most days I’m sure that they don’t exist. That there isn’t a person like that out there for me.”

 

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear Luke stand from his chair. You don’t hear the click of his boots against the floor as he moves to stand beside you, and you don’t notice his presence until you feel his fingers gently nudge your chin up to face him. “You’re too young to be this jaded,” he whispers, a sad smile on his lips. “You have all the time in the world to fall in love. Don’t rush it.”

 

You nod but say nothing. You don’t want to tell Luke that you can imagine yourself falling in love with him. You don’t want to tell him that you’re not rushing anything, that you’ve waited four years for this. You don’t want to jump only for him to let you fall.

 

So you don’t. Instead, you cast your gaze to the floor and hope that he’ll take pity on you and let you go. But he doesn’t. He nudges your chin once again, makes you look him the eye, and sighs, “I think we should talk.”

 

You nod as best as you can as his hand moves to cup your cheek. “We really should,” you agree quietly, although you want to tell him that maybe it’s for the best that you don’t.

 

Luke is silent as he takes a moment to search your face. For what you’re not certain, but he must find whatever he’s looking for as he reaches into his pocket and removes a key card. He pulls his hand from your cheek and gently grabs your wrist, never looking away from your face. “I’ll be in room fourteen-eleven at ten,” he informs you quietly, his eyes searching yours as he presses the key card into your palm and curls your fingers around it. “If you’re not there by ten-thirty, I’ll understand completely. We can pretend that nothing ever happened and only interact for Dylan, if that’s what you want.”

 

Before you can respond, tell him that that’s the last thing you want, you hear the telltale click of Dylan’s heels returning to the ballroom and Luke removes his hands from your wrist to step back into place beside you. He makes a comment about one of the pictures, mutters something about it being cute, and you find yourself nodding along as Dylan hands you a flute of champagne.

 

She glances at you and Luke for a moment, her smile one of content, before she sighs happily. “My best friend,” she breathes, “my best guy.” She pauses for a moment before she grins at Luke and hums, “My best dad,” and beams at the laugh that vibrates in his chest. “I love all of you,” she informs you happily as she raises her glass in a toast. “I’m so thankful that all of you are in my life. I can’t imagine it any other way.”

 

The moment that you take a sip of champagne, the first rush of guests takes the ballroom by storm and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief as you take your seat at your designated table. You mingle with the friends that have ended up at the same table and try not to allow Luke’s request to consume your thoughts as the champagne flows and the night drags on. However, as the minutes turn into hours and the party rages around you, the key to his hotel room weighs heavily in your pocket and you feel as if it’s going to burn a hole in your dress before you have a chance to use it.

 

Fortunately, though, your attempts at normalcy are aided by the lack of Luke’s presence. He appears sporadically, long enough to greet guests or give a speech in honor of Dylan, but he seems to disappear just as quickly as he appears. And the closer the clock ticks to ten, the less you see of him. You hear someone mention that they’d heard him tell Dylan that he was leaving, that he had something that needed to be taken care of, and your heart races just a little faster in your chest as you wrack your brain for your own excuse.

 

You hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t planned on slipping away to be with Luke, but you use Dylan’s words from your morning phone call against her. You tell her that you love her, tell her that you’re dead on your feet and in desperate need of sleep, before you bid her goodnight and nearly sprint to the elevator. You check the time on your phone as you anxiously await its arrival and your heart pounds in your chest as you realize you should’ve been upstairs five minutes ago. You feel anxious, nervous that Luke thinks you’ve given up on him and that you’ve lost your chance to, at the very least, get a sense of closure as the elevator carries you to the fourteenth floor.

 

By the time you’re standing in front of his room, you’re ten minutes late and you’re certain that Luke has given up on you. You’re certain that you’re going to find the room empty, Luke nowhere to be found, but you have to know for sure. So, you bite back the returning storm of emotions pooling in the pit of your stomach and pull the key from your pocket. You take a deep breath as you slip the card into the reader and step into the room.

 

To your surprise, the room is bathed in the warm glow of lamplight and Luke is standing by the window, his hands in his pockets and his heart on his sleeve. Luke has had ample time to think this through, has agonized over it for weeks and analyzed every possible scenario. Each is worse than the last, he knows this, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you. He knows that he shouldn’t want you. He knows that he should take this moment to let you down gently, but he can’t. He sees a future in you, with you, and though the road is paved with hardship, he doesn’t want to run from you.

 

And he’s hoping beyond hope that you feel the same.

 

But as he glances at your reflection in the plate glass window, Luke isn’t so sure.

 

He had seen through your smile the moment that you stepped out of the car. The moment his eyes met yours, he had seen the terror in them. He had seen the guilt, the nerves, the anxiety; and it sent a sharp pang of hurt shooting down his spine. He saw through the speechlessness and teary eyes when Dylan asked you to be her maid of honor. He knew that while you were thrilled beyond measure, you were also drowning in a sea of guilt and it was all his fault.

 

He knows that he shouldn’t have slept with you but when he looks at you, truly looks, he can’t bring himself to regret it.

 

Your timid voice breaks him from his thoughts as you whisper, “I’m sorry I’m so late.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to whisper but you’re afraid to burst the bubble that exists inside this room and Luke understands. He’s just as afraid of what this conversation will bring so he allows your soft voice to wash over him and doesn’t question the tone that you’ve chosen. “I couldn’t get away,” you inform him, desperate to explain yourself, “Who knew I was friends with so many chatterboxes?”

 

Luke turns to face you and you’re relieved to find him smiling softly at you. He can’t help himself. That lovesick smile seems to quirk his lips automatically anytime you’re near and it’s something that he’s never felt before. But before either of you can dwell, he shakes his head. In a tone just as quiet as yours, he returns, “It’s alright, pretty girl. I’m not upset.”

 

The room is quiet for a moment, the two of you studying one another, and Luke can see the rigidity in your shoulders as you play with the bracelet adorning your wrist. He breathes a quiet sigh before he holds his hand out to you. “Come here,” he whispers, his tone gentle to convey that this is a request, not a demand. He can feel his heart lift with happiness as you cross the room without hesitation and take his hand in yours. He gives you a reassuring squeeze, his fingers warm while yours are ice cold, before he drops your hand and wraps his arms around your shoulders to pull you into an embrace that he hopes is comforting.

 

When you relax against his chest and wrap your arms tightly around his waist, Luke releases a shaky breath and whispers, “You look so beautiful tonight, pretty girl.” He can hear feel your cheeks heating against the exposed sliver of chest and he smiles before he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “This is a beautiful color on you,” he compliments as his fingers move gently over the soft fabric.

 

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice muffled slightly by his chest, “you look beautiful, too.” And Luke smiles at that because he knows that you’re being sincere. It still boggles his mind as to how you can find him so attractive when he looks in the mirror and sees such an old man but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he squeezes your shoulder in thanks and allows you to continue, “I love seeing you in these types of shirts.”

 

“I’ll wear one for you whenever you want, pretty girl,” he promises as he moves his hands to cup your cheeks and turns your head to face him, “but right now, we need to talk.”

 

“I want to,” you nod, your voice shaking with emotion, “we _need_ to. But I’ve been so anxious for weeks and now that you’re touching me, it feels like nothing else matters. Now that you’re touching me, I feel like I can breathe again and I just need a minute to breathe.”

 

Luke’s heart breaks at your words. He knew that this would be overwhelming for you, knew that you would overthink and upset yourself, but he hadn’t realized just how hard you would take it all. He knows that you should talk first, knows that you should clear the air and that he should reassure you, but he quickly finds that he’ll give you anything so long as it makes you happy.

 

So he nods, his eyes locked on yours and his heart breaking at the tears lining your lashes. “We need to talk,” he stresses, his tone gentle, “but it can wait a little bit.”

 

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you again?” you whisper, your voice hesitant as you search his eyes for any hint as to what he’s feeling.

 

Luke feels as if he’s flinging himself off a cliff, falling into the unknown, and it feels so strange to put his heart in the hands of a twenty-something whose parents he’s had to ask for permission to take her out of state, but he can’t help himself. He wants this, wants you, so he breathes, “Only if it’s bad that I want to kiss you again.”

 

You feel as if your heart is going to beat out of your chest in anticipation as Luke brushes his thumbs across your cheekbones. He leaves you in suspense for a moment before he dips his head and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is different than the ones you shared weeks ago. This kiss is reassuring, it’s comforting. And you feel the emotions that both of you have felt over the past two weeks pouring out of you as you feel his lips on yours once more.

 

“As amazing as last time was,” you breathe against his lips the moment he pulls away to let you breathe, “I don’t think I can handle slow tonight. I need you, all of you, please.”

 

Luke breathes an agreement against your lips, his words muffled by your mouth, before he resumes the kiss and moves his hands from your cheeks to grasp the zipper of your dress. As Luke drags the zipper down, you reach for the buttons of his shirt and make quick work of them.

 

This feels more like a hookup, you think, as you nudge the material from his shoulders and step out of your dress. But you know that this means more than the first time that you slept together. You’ve both dropped walls, both spent weeks agonizing over what you’re going to do, and you want to remember this. You’re not sure if this will happen again so you want to feel Luke in the way that you’ve always imagined.

 

As you pull away from his kiss, your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, Luke’s lips find your neck and his hands find your lace covered breasts. His touch is rougher this time, stronger, and you moan as he kneads your flesh. He tries his hardest not to leave marks as his lips brush your skin but when your hands unbuckle his belt and dip beneath the waistband of his jeans to grip his cock through his briefs, Luke nips your skin and knows that you’ll be left with a reminder in the morning.

 

The moment that you remove your hands from his jeans, Luke removes his hands from your breasts and nudges the denim down his legs. You follow suit, unclasping your bra and stepping out of your panties, before you return your hand to Luke’s cock and glance up at him from beneath your lashes. “Can I try something?” you ask, your voice breathless and your heart pounding in your chest.

 

“Whatever you want,” Luke nods, “I’m yours, pretty girl.”

 

Your heart melts at the thought of being his but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on his words as you begin pressing kisses to the column of his throat. Luke watches, his hands in your hair, as your lips move down his chest, over his stomach, and come to a stop at his hipbones. You nip at the skin, leaving a mark of your own, before you sink to your knees before him.

 

He can feel himself hardening from the simplest of touches, from seeing you on your knees before him, and it makes him curse the effect that you have on him. He hasn’t felt this in ages, hasn’t been so easily turned on in years, and it’s almost overwhelming when you lick your lips and grip the base of his cock. “You don’t have to,” he breathes instantly, his hand moving from your hair to cup your cheek.

 

“I know,” you assure him, your eyes wide and earnest, “but I want to.” You keep your eyes on his for a moment, hesitating slightly, before you add, “I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

 

Luke audibly groans at your words and nods his agreement as you stare up at him. “Okay,” he nods, already feeling fucked and you’ve barely even touched him, “okay, Go ahead, then.”

 

He’s not sure how he feels about the effect that you have on him but he knows that it leaves him weak in the knees as he watches you grip his thighs and begin pressing kisses to his lower stomach. His hands return to your hair and his fingers tangle in the strands as you nip at his hipbones, your lips burning a trail of fire against his skin wherever they touch. He’s never been one to beg but he feels compelled to do so as you bypass his cock to continue pressing teasing kisses to his thighs. But before he can open his mouth, your lips are pressed to the shaft of his cock and he tightens his grip on your hair.

 

“You can pull my hair if you want,” you breathe against his shaft, the vibrations clouding his mind with lust and overwhelming his senses as your gaze lifts to meet his. “I don’t mind.”

 

And Luke feels like he’s going to combust as you take the head of his cock between your lips.

 

Luke can’t remember the last time that he got this worked up over a blowjob, can’t remember the last proper blowjob he’d gotten, but he knows that it was nothing compared to this. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his shaft, your lips wrapped around the head, your hand rolling his balls in your palm; it’s all so incredibly overwhelming and he can’t help himself as he tugs at your hair and begins to control your pace.

 

At the feeling of Luke taking control, of him fucking your mouth and tugging your hair, you moan around his cock and he swears he could cum right there. He feels like a fucking teenager, so close to cumming even though you’ve barely started blowing him, but he knows that he has to pull you away or he won’t last long enough to feel you.

 

So he pulls you off of his cock by your hair and swears at the audible groan that leaves your lips. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he breathes, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

 

You smile at him, so innocent and sweet and Luke feels his cock twitch at the contrast he’s able to see in you. He’s enamored with you, wants to see every side of you that you’ll let him, and he can’t help himself as he leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. As you lose yourself in the feeling, Luke’s hands drop lower. One grips your hip, his fingers digging into your skin, as the other dips between your legs. Your hands move to his hair and you tug at the curly strands as his fingers brush your folds, gathering wetness, before he slowly dips two into your entrance.

 

You groan at the feeling, at the slight sting, but when Luke moves to pull his hand away, you whisper, “I’m fine, keep going,” against his lips. In an effort to distract you, Luke moves his thumb to your clit and brushes quick circles over the bundle of nerves as he stretches you open.

 

The experience is less sensual than the first time, more desperate to feel one another after weeks of suppressing your desire, and you can’t help yourself as you breathe, “Please, Luke. Just want to feel you,” against his lips. “I’m fine, promise, just fuck me.”

 

Luke nods his agreement, his fingers heat and moving to your hips before he begins walking you back toward the bed. You mull over the thought for a moment before you place a hand on his chest and stop him before he can nudge you down to lie on your back. “Can I ride you?” you ask, your voice quiet.

 

“Fuck, pretty girl,” Luke breathes as he pulls away from you and reaches for his discarded jeans, “gonna kill me. Yeah, fuck, ‘course you can.”

 

You watch as Luke climbs onto the bed and settles against the headboard before he rips open the foil packet and rolls the condom onto his length. He holds out his hand for you to take the moment you kneel on the bed yourself and helps you settle into a comfortable position over his thighs before his hands drop to your hips. He gives you full control, allows you to move at your own pace, and you’re thankful for this as you grip the base of his cock and align him with your entrance.

 

Luke watches, his breath caught in his throat, as you sink onto him. Both of you release strangled moans as you fully seat yourself on his cock and he’s certain he’s never felt this overwhelmed by sex. “Fuck,” he breathes, his hands moving from your hips to knead your breasts, “feel so good around me, pretty girl. Take me so well.”

 

You moan at Luke’s words and begin moving, grinding your hips against his and clenching around him at the feeling. “I feel so full,” you whimper, dropping your head to his shoulder as you experimentally lift your hips and drop back down.

 

As Luke focuses his attention on your nipples, you set a pace that’s both quick and rough and Luke makes a mental note of what you like as he feels you tightening around him. When he feels you clench unexpectedly, he glances down and groans at the sight of your fingers rubbing quick circles over your clit. He wants to feel you cum for him, wants to feel you fall over the edge once again, and he can’t help himself as he nudges your hand out of the way to continue the stimulation before he breathes, “Come on, pretty girl. Want to see you cum for me. Can you do that? Can you cum on my cock?”

 

You whimper at Luke’s words, bury your face in the crook of his neck, and will your body to do as he asked and fall over the edge for him. With him whispering encouraging words in your ear, praise and filth alike, you quickly reach your high and Luke removes the hand on your waist to move your face so that he can see you as you fall over the edge.

 

Luke thinks that you look so beautiful as he watches your eyes flutter shut and your mouth drop open with a breath of his name as you cum around his cock. And it’s this, combined with the feeling of you tightening around him like a vice, that has him falling over the edge with you.

 

You remain on his lap for a moment, your chest heaving and your heart pounding, before you climb off of him and allow him to toss the condom into the trashcan beside the bed. Just as you’d done that night weeks ago, you curl into his side and Luke wraps his arms tightly around you. The both of you are quiet for a moment as you catch your breath before you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

 

Luke frowns at your apology and asks, “What for?”

 

You hear the genuine confusion in his tone and shrug as you gently trace patterns against his chest. “I ghosted you. I spent two weeks trying to pretend that you didn’t exist when you were nothing but sweet to me that morning. I should’ve talked to you.” You pause for a moment before you add, “Ghosting means disappearing, by the way.”

 

“I know what ghosting means,” Luke laughs as he pinches your side playfully, “I’m old, not senile.” You smile at this as his hands begin stroking your sides comfortingly. “You don’t have to apologize,” he assures you, “I should be the one to apologize. I should’ve stayed with you. I knew how you were feeling. I saw the look on your face, I saw the look in your eyes. I should’ve asked you to talk to me before I left but I was afraid. I thought that talking to you would open a can of worms that I wasn’t ready for but that wasn’t fair of me. I’m not in this alone and neither are you.”

 

He pauses for a moment before he admits quietly, “It doesn’t matter how nice I was. What matters is how you felt, how you feel now, and I should’ve realized how tough this was going to be for you.” He smiles softly at you as he continues, “I know you. I know that you overthink everything, that you second guess yourself even if you shouldn’t, and I’m sure that your brain hasn’t slowed down since that night.”

 

“That’s not on you, though,” you argue weakly, “you can’t help the way that my brain is. I should’ve handled it better. I should’ve been able to keep my emotions in check. I should’ve talked to you, asked you to stay. But that irrational part of my brain that tells me no one will ever want me said that you were rejecting me and I couldn’t.”

 

“Pretty girl,” Luke sighs sadly, “I wasn’t rejecting you. I wanted to give you an out. To let you go if that’s what you wanted. But you can’t beat yourself up over this.” He moves his hands to gently brush your hair from your face as he continues gently, “You’re only twenty-two. I ran like hell when I was your age. Dylan was the first overwhelming situation that I didn’t run from. I didn’t talk much, couldn’t open up easily, so don’t feel bad that you did what was natural for you. Don’t feel bad that you tried to sort this out on your own. Just know that, next time, you don’t have to do this alone. I hope you know that you can come to me but I understand that trust is earned, not freely given.”

 

He’s quiet for a moment before he asks, “Can you tell me what you’re thinking? What you’ve been thinking? Honestly, no filter.”

 

“Right now, I’m thinking about how happy I am to be back in your arms,” you whisper, your cheeks heating as you stare at the silver necklace resting against Luke’s chest, “but my mind has been a mess for the past two weeks. I’m not sure what I’m thinking anymore. I’ve felt every emotion in the book at least twice and I’m so tired.”

 

Luke gives you a moment to breathe and rubs your shoulder soothingly as you continue. “I feel elated that you wanted me, that you gave me something I’ve wanted for years but I also feel nervous that this is something fun for you, a game. I feel terrified that you’re just using me as some sort of answer to a midlife crisis and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

 

Luke knows that you have more to say but he can’t help himself as he cups your cheek and turns your head to face him. “This isn’t a game to me,” Luke assures you, his voice strong and steady, “I’m not having a midlife crisis. I’m just as overwhelmed and terrified as you are. You’re twenty-two, pretty girl. You could do so much better than some old man like me. You have the rest of your life ahead of you. My best years are behind me. I’ve thought about this before, thought about you, but I told myself that it was wrong. I told myself that I shouldn’t want you because I’ve watched you grow up over the past four years. I’ve seen you grow from being a timid eighteen year old to a strong, independent twenty-two year old and I’m so proud of you.”

 

“But the more I got to know you, the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted you. The more sides of yourself that you showed me, the more I wanted you. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t make that clear before we slept together. I want this to be more than sex,” he informs you quietly, “and I never meant to make you doubt yourself in this way.”

 

He frowns as tears begin spilling past your lashes but before he can comfort you, you shake your head slightly. “Good tears,” you whisper, “good tears. I’m just so relieved. I want something more, too. But can we be something more?”

 

Luke sighs at your question and lightly shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, pretty girl,” he answers honestly, “I want nothing more but it will be so hard.” He hesitates for a moment before he sighs, “Dylan is my baby. I love her more than anything and I know that this isn’t going to be easy for her. And I know that it’s not going to be easy for you, either. I saw the look on your face when she asked you to be her maid of honor. Those weren’t happy tears.”

 

“I’m so terrified,” you answer honestly, “I’m terrified of what will happen if she finds out.” Luke brushes the tears from your cheeks as you continue, “I have genuine feelings for you, feelings that I want to explore, but the thought of hurting Dylan makes me so nauseous. She’s helped me through some of the worst moments of my life. She’s my constant, my confidant, my _person_. I love her so much and I don’t want to lose her.”

 

Luke feels his heart simultaneously swell and crack at the words spilling past your lips. He understands that keeping Dylan likely means losing this before it even begins. But he also understands that keep this most likely means both of you losing Dylan and that’s the worst kind of heartbreak that he can imagine. He doesn’t want you to have to choose, doesn’t want you to feel torn between the two of them, so when you whisper, “I don’t want to lose either of you. You both mean too much to me,” he decides that there has to be a third option.

 

There has to be a way for you to keep both him and Dylan in your life. There has to be a way for him to keep both you and Dylan in his life. And as he soothes you to sleep, your exhausted eyes closing without resistance for the first time in two weeks, Luke decides that he’s going to do whatever it takes to make sure that neither of you are forced to choose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest thing I've ever written, tbh.


	3. Morning Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months have passed and you’re more in love with Luke than you ever would’ve imagined. What happens when Dylan finds out about the relationship?

You never knew that six simple words could unnerve someone so quickly, but the moment you see, ‘ _We need to talk. I know_ ,’ appear in the form of a text message from Dylan, you can feel the foundation you’d worked so hard to build for yourself begin to crumble.

 

Your heart begins to pound so harshly in your chest that you’re almost certain anyone looking hard enough could see. Your stomach ties itself into knots, guilt and shame bubbling with a ferocity that you haven’t felt in months. Your mind goes blank, all thoughts replaced by, ‘ _She knows_ ,’ on a loop. A cold sweat beads at your brow and you feel as if you’re going to be sick.

 

Luke, who had been responding to emails beside you, glances up as your shaking hands drop your cellphone onto the couch and frowns at the look on your face. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he questions, his tone gentle as he places his laptop on the coffee table and reaches out for you. When you refuse him with a harsh shake of your head, Luke knows that something is wrong and places the textbook you’d been reading onto the coffee table to move closer to you.

 

He doesn’t attempt to touch you again, doesn’t reach for you, but he does duck his head to meet your eyes. “Talk to me, baby,” he requests quietly, his eyes searching yours for any hint as to what is wrong, “I can’t help unless you talk to me.”

 

He’s expecting you to be upset over a grade, expecting you to have forgotten some important assignment; what he isn’t expecting is to hear you choke, “She knows.”

 

Luke blinks, taken aback by your statement, before he nods slowly. “She knows,” he repeats quietly, “oh.”

 

He knew that this day was coming, knew that Dylan would find out, but he had imagined it would be from his own mouth. He isn’t sure what to say because he isn’t sure what he feels. He doesn’t feel anxious or overwhelmed. He doesn’t feel afraid or panicked. He can clearly see thoseemotions reflected in your eyes but he himself is calm and that unnerves the both of you.

 

“Oh?” you laugh, the sound harsh and humorless and borderline hysterical, and it brings him back to the moment, “Luke, I don’t think you get it. She knows. Dylan, your daughter and my best friend, knows that we’re together. She knows that her best friend is dating or, for all she knows, just sleeping with her dad and she wants to talk. This is what I’ve been terrified of for months.”

 

“Can I?” Luke asks as he reaches out for you once more. When you nod, a sigh leaving your lips, he helps you maneuver onto his lap and reaches up to brush an errant strand of hair from your eyes. “She was going to have to find out eventually,” he reminds you gently as he moves his hands to your lower back, “if we’re serious about this working, about us being together for the long run, she has to know. She’s such a huge part of both of our lives and I think that it’s a good thing that she found out now. The longer we wait, the harder it will be on everyone.”

 

“I know,” you sigh as you relax into Luke’s embrace, your heart calming as he rubs soothing circles over your back. “I want her to know,” you assure him, “I really do. I don’t like lying to her anymore than you do and I hate having to hide us because this is the best relationship I’ve ever had. I hate feeling so guilty every time that we’re together and she texts me to ask where I am and I can’t tell her. I hate feeling like I’m betraying her by sneaking around you, I hate having to sneak around with you. Her knowing would make things so much easier for all of us but I hate that this is how it happened.”

 

You’re quiet for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before you tell him, “I hate that she found out this way. I wanted to be the one to tell her, you know? Or I was sort of hoping that the two of us could tell her together. I know that that wasn’t going to magically make everything alright but I thought that it would be the best way to go about it. I thought that by going to her and showing her how serious we are, how much this relationship means to both of us, that she might not be so upset. Or maybe it would help her accept it as real and something important to the both of us. But this is the one thing that I didn’t want, for her to find out before we could tell her.”

 

Luke nods his agreement and releases a heavy sigh as his hands still on your skin. “I hate this as much as you do,” he tells you quietly, “I wanted her to hear it from us, too. But Dylan knows that we would never intentionally hurt her. She knows that we both love her and she loves us. This is going to be difficult for her to adjust to, it’s going to be difficult for us all, but it’s for the best that she knows. We’ll talk to her. We’ll explain ourselves and our relationship. We’ll tell her that it’s more than just sex, that we really are in this for the long term, and we’ll hope that she can forgive us.”

 

Luke falls silent and you can see him hesitating to share what is on his mind. With a sigh, you cup his cheeks and meet his eyes. “You’re always telling me to talk to you,” you remind him quietly, “you have to do the same. What’s on your mind?”

 

Luke breathes a heavy sigh as his eyes slip shut. “She’s my little girl,” he whispers, his eyes opening to reveal the emotions buried deep beneath the steady exterior, “and I promised that I would always take care of her. I promised that I would never do anything to hurt her and when we started this relationship, I knew that I was breaking that promise. I knew that I was being selfish but I tried not to think about it. I tried not to think about what would happen if we stayed together, what Dylan would think about this, but I should’ve been thinking about it the whole time. If I had, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”

 

Luke’s words send a pang through your heart and your hands drop from his cheeks as you mull them over. “Do you regret this?” you ask, even though you feel like you won’t like his answer.

 

“No, pretty girl,” Luke assures you instantly as he pulls you tight against his chest. “I regret how we’ve gone about this,” he sighs, his voice quiet, “but I don’t regret being with you. I really care about you and I want this relationship to work. I’m just worried about what happens next.”

 

“What are we going to do?”you question, your voice small and breaking Luke’s heart even further. “I want this to work, too, more than you know. But we can’t keep going if she asks us to stop.”

 

“I know,” Luke sighs, his heart feeling heavy at the thought of having to end your relationship. “I hope that it doesn’t come to that but, if it does, we’ll figure it out.”

 

The two of you sit in a heavy silence, your hearts crumbling at the thought of having to end a relationship that already means so much. You’ve only been with Luke for six months and you’re not sure that it’s love yet but you know that this relationship is more meaningful than any other relationship you’ve ever had. You can see a future with him and you hope that Dylan can understand. But you think that you’ll understand if she can’t, even though you know that that means your relationship with Luke is over.

 

However, before you can lose yourself in the ‘what-ifs’ and the questions of what comes next, the ‘ping’ of your phone echoes through the living room and has you sucking in a sharp breath. “Will you think any less of me if I ask you to read that? I can’t look,” you sigh as you stare at your cellphone.

 

“Of course not, pretty girl,” Luke assures you, even though he’s afraid of what he’ll see, too. He grabs the device off the couch and takes as deep a breath as he can before he presses the home button. “Meet me at that cafe on fourth in an hour,” he reads before he locks the phone and returns it the cushion beside him.

 

You nod, your heart in your throat, and move off of his lap. Luke is quiet as he watches you shove your laptop and textbook back into your backpack. He isn’t sure what to tell you, isn’t sure what he can say to make this situation any easier for either of you, so he says nothing. He just watches, ready to jump in the moment you need him.

 

And when you stand, bag in hand and phone shoved into your pocket, Luke is following you. He’s grabbing his keys, pulling on his coat, and plucking the backpack from your hands to toss it over his shoulder before you can even ask, “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m going with you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing. “I don’t want you to do this alone.”

 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you sigh as you fold your arms over your chest and stare down at your shoes. “She seems upset enough already and she didn’t mention you. Maybe she’d prefer to talk to us separately.”

 

Luke doesn’t want to argue, not now, so he nods. “I’ll take you to your apartment, then,” he sighs as he adjusts his hold on the backpack, “let you get your car.”

 

“Please don’t be upset, Lu,” you whisper as you unfold your arms and wrap them around his waist. “I want to accommodate her. Whatever she wants right now, I’m willing to give it to her. It might be easier for her to face us alone. Maybe she wants to hear what’s going on from us individually, see if we’re on the same page. Or maybe she’s going to tell me that she never wants to see me again and doesn’t want to do it in front of you. Either way, I need to do this alone.”

 

Luke nods again, only this time he breathes a sigh of defeat. “I know,” he concedes quietly, “I just hate this. We never should’ve let it get this far without her knowing.”

 

You nod, hum your acknowledgement, and that’s the end of your conversation. Luke doesn’t push and neither do you. Instead, he leads you to the car and opens the passenger door for you before he climbs into the driver’s seat and begins the route to your apartment. Neither of you speak on the drive, both conjuring thoughts of what might happen next, and it’s only when he pulls into the parking spot beside your car that the silence is broken.

 

“No matter what happens, know that I really do care about you,” Luke tells you, his voice quiet as he reaches for your hands. “I can see a future with you that I’ve never seen with anyone else and it scares the hell out of me. But I want to make this work. If Dylan can find it in herself to forgive us, to give us a chance, then I want to be with you.” He pauses for a moment before he sucks in a deep breath and breathes, “I have something for you. I was going to wait to give it to you but now feels right.”

 

Luke hands you a slender black box and gestures for you to open it when you blink at him. Upon lifting the lid, you find a delicate silver chain with a small silver pendant attached resting inside. “When we first started seeing each other,” Luke begins as he reaches for the necklace, “I was more afraid than I let on. I was afraid that you hadn’t fully realized just how many years are between us. I was afraid that I was pushing you into something that you only thought you wanted. I was afraid that we would burn bright and fade fast. But none of those fears were founded. The past six months have been amazing and I hope that we have years to come. No matter what happens next, just know that I care about you so much.”

 

“Please don’t make me cry before I go meet Dylan,” you breathe as you turn to allow Luke to clasp the necklace for you. “Thank you, Lu,” you whisper as you grasp the pendant between your fingers, “it’s beautiful.” When you turn back to face Luke, you tell him, “I really care about you, too, Lu. And no matter what happens tonight, I want you to know that I’m so incredibly happy to have spent the last few months with you.”

 

Luke smiles at you, that same soft smile he’s given you longer than you’ve noticed, and you can’t help the few tears that spill. “Why does this feel like the end?” you question quietly, your hands falling to your lap as you search his face for any hint as to how he’s feeling.

 

Luke doesn’t want to, he knows that he shouldn’t, but he says, “Because it might be,” and that’s enough to break your heart. You know that it’s true, that this might be the end, but you don’t want it to be and the feeling of reality crashing down around you hurts your heart more than you’re willing to admit.

 

So, instead of responding, you nod and grip the strap of your backpack. “I’ll let you know what happens,” you breathe as you’re climbing out of the car and before Luke can stop you, you’re disappearing up the stairs to your apartment.

 

He lets his head fall to the steering wheel for a moment before he sighs. He understands that you’re upset, understands that this is stressful, and he knows that you’re attempting to distance yourself to avoid heartbreak but to see you pulling away before you even know what’s going to happen kills him. He wants to dash up the stairs, pull you into his arms, and promise you that this isn’t the end. But he doesn’t know that. And he can’t comfort you when he himself isn’t quite sure what he’s feeling. So he lets you go. He backs out of his parking space and drives home, his head clouded with a multitude of scenarios that seem impossible as he waits for you to speak to Dylan.

 

And you, with your heart heavy and your mind racing, arrive at the cafe twenty minutes early. You order a cup of coffee for it to serve as nothing more than a piece of decor for the table. Your eyes focus on the swirling blue pattern of the cup but your mind is a million miles away, wondering how you ended up here.

 

You’re upset at yourself for betraying Dylan. You’re upset at yourself for not being more understanding of Luke. You’re upset at yourself for letting things go on this long without telling Dylan. You’re upset at yourself for falling so hard so fast, even though you knew that there was a good chance it wouldn’t last.

 

You’re overwhelmed again, a feeling you haven’t felt since the weeks leading up to Dylan’s engagement party, and your first instinct is to run again but you can’t. You know that you have to stay, that you have to sort this out, but it’s so tempting to disappear, to crawl beneath your covers and bury yourself in work until nothing else seems to exist, but before you can stand from your seat and leave the cafe, a voice you suddenly find yourself afraid of stops you in your tracks.

 

“I want you to know that I am so incredibly upset with you right now.”

 

You feel your heart sink to your feet as Dylan takes a seat in the chair across from yours, her hands hitting the table with a dull thud and her voice tinged with hurt. You can’t bring yourself to lift your head, can’t bring yourself to do much more than suck in a surprised breath, because you have a terrible feeling that you know where this conversation is going.

 

You know that she’s going to tell you what an awful friend you are, how horrible she thinks you are, and that she wants nothing to do with you. She’s going to tell you that she’s disgusted by your relationship, that you should be ashamed of yourself. She’s going to cut all ties with you and expect you to do the same with Luke.

 

You want to run but you find yourself glued to the chair as she huffs. “I know that you’re seeing someone,” she sighs, her voice still hurt, “and I mean, I get why you wouldn’t tell other people. But we’ve been best friends for four years. I have no secrets from you. I tell you absolutely everything. I don’t expect you to just continually update me on your relationship but I would like to know when my best friend is falling in love.”

 

When you remain quiet, almost confused as to where this conversation is heading, she continues. “Is there a reason you haven’t told me? Is it about who you’re dating? Is he abusive? Is he married? Is it a girl?” she rattles off question after question before she sighs again. “I won’t judge you,” she tells you quietly, “I love you. You’re my best friend and I’m here for you, okay? I just want to know what’s going on with your life.”

 

You blink, stunned into silence, before you lift your head to look at her. “Wait, I’m so confused,” you breathe as you attempt to make sense of her questions. “You know I’m seeing someone but you can’t figure out who?” you question, hoping that that’s the case.

 

“Yes!” she huffs, “I know you’ve been seeing someone since at least July and it’s driving me insane not knowing. I get that you want privacy but I’m your best friend. You should trust me with this sort of thing. I’m not trying to guilt you into telling me but I’m really hurt. I know this seems stupid and petty but I thought we were closer than that. I thought we told each other everything. I thought you trusted me with stuff like this.”

 

You feel the anxiety in your stomach dissipate as you realize that she doesn’t know Luke is the man you’ve been seeing. Your heart rate returns to normal as you relax in your chair and release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. However, that peace only lasts for a moment as you realize that this means you’ll have to move forward with your original plan of telling her about the relationship yourself.

 

You fall into your thoughts for a moment, allow your brain to quickly make a list of options, before you decide that it’s best to wait and talk to Luke. You want to tell her together, present a united front, and you hope that that will help her understand how important the relationship is to you both. However, you’re not overly hopeful as you return your full attention to the conversation.

 

“It’s not petty or stupid,” you sigh with a shake of your head, “and I do. I trust you with my life. It’s just… This is complicated.”

 

“Is he married?” she questions. “Or a criminal. Is he in jail? Please tell me you’re not going to be one of those women who marries someone in jail.”

 

“Dylan, Jesus, no,” you laugh with a shake of your head. “No,” you sigh as you pick at the label on your drink, “not a criminal, not in jail, not married. Never committed a crime, never been to jail, never been married.”

 

“Then what’s so complicated?” she questions. “I can’t think of anything- Is it the professor you’re assisting? Oh my god, you’re banging a professor!”

 

“Dylan,” you scold, urging her to keep her voice down, “no. I’m not sleeping with the professor I’m working with. Look, I can’t tell you who it is yet, okay? You just have to trust me when I tell you that this is the most amazing relationship I’ve ever been in. It’s still sort of new but I’m so sure about him, about us. I’ve never been in a relationship that meant this much to me.”

 

“Do you love him?” she asks, her tone softening as she takes in the look on your face. She’s never seen you happier, never seen you so enamored with another person, and it fills her heart with joy to know that you’re finally in a good place romantically.

 

“It’s only been six months, D,” you laugh as you reach for your drink, “it’s too early.”

 

“No, it’s not,” she shrugs, “when you know, you know. I knew that I loved Alex the moment we met. Years later, here we are, getting married in a few months. So. Do you love him?”

 

You pause for a moment and ponder her question. You know that you care deeply for Luke, know that you can see a future with him, but you’ve tried your hardest not to think about love. With your relationship hanging in the balance, not knowing what will happen when Dylan finds out, you’ve tried to keep the concept of love at an arm’s distance but you know that you’ve failed. You know that you love Luke, you know that you were head over heels for him before he even began paying you attention, but to be asked the question and expected to answer makes it real. And you’re not sure if real is good at this point.

 

But you can’t help yourself as you breathe, “I do, D. I love him more than I thought I would and it scares me. I don’t know if we have a future, even though we both want one, and I’m so afraid of what happens next.”

 

Dylan looks concerned at this and reaches for your hand. “Why don’t you know if you have a future if you both want one?” she questions, “What’s stopping you?”

 

You want to say, ‘ _You, Dylan. You are stopping us_ ,’ but you don’t. Because it’s not her fault. You know that it isn’t fair to blame your mistakes on her. So, you shrug. “A lot of things,” you sigh, because that’s true. There’s more than just Dylan standing between your future with Luke. Your parents, society, the things you want out of life; they’re all things that you haven’t even touched on with Luke and it makes your heart and your head hurt to think about tackling each of them head on.

 

Dylan gives you a look that begs you to keep talking and you suddenly can’t stop yourself. You haven’t had anyone but Luke to confide in about the relationship for months and, although Dylan doesn’t know everything, you feel a sense of peace as you talk things out with her.

 

“He’s older than me,” you tell her, “like, a lot older. And I’m just, I don’t know. Worried, I guess. I’m afraid of what my parents will think, I’m afraid of what people will think when they look at us. I’m afraid that we don’t want the same things in life. I mean, I want kids someday, you know? And he already has one. And he’s older, what if he doesn’t want another? What person would, honestly? You have a child, it’s grown, and then you have a baby with someone the same age as your child? That’s weird, right? I just, I’m nervous. Because this is so real for me and I think it’s real for him, too, but we’ve been hyper focused on one issue that we haven’t worried about the rest.”

 

Dylan blinks, surprised at the sudden outpouring of words, before she squeezes your hand and sighs. “It’s always hard navigating relationships,” she tells you, “but a relationship like that is so much harder. As for your parents, I know that their opinion means a lot but they’re so incredibly supportive. Even if this man is older than they’d like for you, they’ll support your decision wholeheartedly. As for society, fuck it. You and the people closest to you matter, no one else. If other people have a problem, well, it’s theirs to have. It has nothing to do with you. So, just live and let live.”

 

She pauses for a moment, contemplating what to say next, before she continues. “As for what you want out of a relationship, that’s really important to talk about. If you love him, and I’m sure you do, you need to tell him what you want and see if you’re on the same page. I can’t speak for his child but if my dad was dating someone my age, I would find it really weird,” she tells you and you feel your heart sink, “but, I would try my hardest to support them as long as she was a good person and she made my dad happy. You’re a good person, babe, and I know that you put your heart and soul into everything you do. This relationship is no different. As long as it’s genuine and you’re really, truly certain that this is what you want, I’m sure that his child will understand. If they’re our age, then they’re an adult and they’ll want what’s best for their dad. Trust me, I would rather my dad date someone like you over anyone he’s ever dated. I’m sure they’ll feel the same way once they get to know you.”

 

You know that she’s being hypothetical, just trying to make you feel better, but it doesn’t stop your heart from soaring at the thought of her being alright with you dating Luke. You blink, surprised at that statement, but before you can comment on it, Dylan begins talking again. “Anyway,” she sighs, “tell me about the relationship. What do you guys do? I’ve never dated an older man so, like, is it the same as younger guys?”

 

“Sort of,” you shrug with a laugh. “We have dinner, watch movies; the usual. Some nights I’ll go over and he’ll work on paperwork while I’m doing homework. Some nights we cook, well, he cooks and I watch. It’s nice. It’s very low pressure and I really enjoy it.”

 

“And the sex?” she prompts, a grin on her lips. “What’s it like? He’s older so he has to have experience. I bet it’s good. Or is it really lazy? Like, does he expect you to do all the work since you’re young or whatever?”

 

At this question, you instantly shake your head. “Nope,” you laugh, “not telling you. We’re not talking about my sex life.”

 

“Oh, come on!” she whines as she steals your coffee cup, “That’s so mean! I’m dying of curiosity.”

 

“Then perish,” you deadpan before you grin at her unimpressed look. “Seriously, D,” you sigh, “you don’t want to know. I’ll tell you that it’s the best I’ve ever had and leave it there. You’ll thank me later for not going into detail, I promise you.”

 

“If you say so,” she huffs as she leans back in her seat, “well, other than Mystery Man, what’s new with you?”

 

You find yourself immersed in your conversation with Dylan and for the first time in months, you don’t feel a heavy weight on your chest whenever you look at her. You don’t feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest and you find yourself laughing with her in a way that you haven’t since the night of your graduation party. It’s energizing, it’s healing, and you find that it’s exactly what you needed as you head to Luke’s.

 

Your heart feels lighter than it did when you left and you know that you’ll have to have a tough conversation with Luke but you decide that it can wait until morning as you knock on his front door and wait for him to let you in.

 

When he sees you standing there, a grin on your lips and a light in your eyes, he’s not sure what happened but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he allows you to brush past him and shuts the front door behind you. Before he can open his mouth, you’re tossing your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss and Luke melts into the embrace. His hands find your hips, his fingers gentle as ever against your skin, before he carefully nudges you away.

 

“Mm, as glad as I am that you’re feeling better,” he breathes as he rests his forehead against yours, “I’m a little confused here. What happened?”

 

“This is going to sound bad but stay with me until I explain myself, okay?” you request. Luke frowns, but nods and allows you to continue. “Dylan doesn’t know,” you inform him, “she doesn’t know we’re together. She knows I’m seeing someone, knows now that it’s an older man, but she doesn’t know it’s you. We had a really long talk and I described our relationship but never said it was you and she seemed to be okay with it. Obviously, it’ll be different when she finds out we’re together but I feel hopeful now. I’m more comfortable with the idea of telling her and I feel so much better about it all now. I wanted to wait for you, to make it something we do together, but I’m ready if you are.”

 

“Really?” Luke questions, unable to keep the surprise off of his face. “Wow,” he laughs, “so, we’re going to do this? We’re going to tell her that we’re together and you’re okay with that?”

 

“I am,” you nod. “I’ve been so afraid of what her reaction would be but we talked and she was really honest. I asked her how she would feel and she said she didn’t know for sure but that she would want you to be happy and I like to think I make you happy. So, maybe she’ll accept us.”

 

“You do,” Luke assures you with a smile, “you make me so happy. And I’ll be even happier when I have both of my girls in my life.” Luke pauses for a moment as he bites his lip in contemplation, before he says, “I wanted to wait and tell you this because I was afraid it would be too soon but I can’t. I love you. I’ve never been so sure of anyone and I know that I’m insane and I’m moving way too fast and you don’t have to say it back, I don’t expect you to, but I had to tell you. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, your lips curving into a blinding grin. “I tried so hard not to think about it because there were so many what-ifs but I thought about it tonight and I do. I love you. It probably is too soon but when you know, you know.”

 

At your response, Luke grins and dips his head to capture your lips once more. “I love you,” he whispers against them, “I love you and I’m so happy you’re in my life.”

 

“I love you, too,” you laugh as he peppers your face with kisses and finally presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “and I’m even happier that you’re in my life.”

 

Luke can feel his heart soaring at the thought that you love him back and he knows that this is too fast, he knows that you’re both in over your heads and that you shouldn’t even approach the subject for another six months, at least, but he can’t help himself. As you said, when you know, you know, and Luke knows.

 

He knows that he sees you when he thinks of his future. He knows that being with you won’t be easy, not everyone will understand, but it doesn’t matter. Because he knows that you’re it. And the thought has him terrified and elated and overwhelmed and it sends his heart skyrocketing as he looks into your eyes.

 

“Come on,” Luke smiles as he pulls away from you and reaches for your hand, “let’s go to bed. This might make me sound old but I just want to hold you.”

 

“If that makes you old, then I’m old, too,” you laugh as you allow him to tug you up the stairs. “I just want to curl up in your bed, with you, I guess, and go to sleep. I’ve felt too much today.”

 

At the teasing jab, Luke rolls his eyes and squeezes your hand. “I see how it is,” he huffs as he turns off the hall light, “you only want me for my bed.”

 

“Not just your bed,” you hum as you step into his bedroom and tug off your top, “I’m pretty partial to your breakfast abilities, too.”

 

Luke tosses you a worn band t-shirt from his dresser and rolls his eyes at you. “Is that your way of asking if I’ll make you breakfast in the morning?” he questions as he sheds his own shirt and replaces it with a college shirt you’re sure has to be as old as you.

 

“It is,” you hum as you step out of your jeans and climb onto the bed to settle beneath the covers. “I would really, really love it if you made me breakfast.”

 

“Mm,” Luke hums playfully as he settles in beside you and turns off the lamp on his nightstand, “and what’s in it for me?”

 

“My eternal love and gratitude?” you try, a teasing grin on your lips as you watch his face. When Luke fixes you with a mock unimpressed stare, you hum thoughtfully. “I’ll let you bend me over your desk again,” you offer, a grin on your lips, “or maybe I’ll let you fuck my face again. I remember how much you liked that last time.”

 

“What kind of waffles do you want?” Luke asks as he tugs you closer to him and leans in to press a kiss to your jaw.

 

“Isn’t that the part where you should’ve asked how I like my eggs?” you question with a laugh and Luke playfully nudges you away.

 

“You ruined the mood,” he huffs with a laugh. You giggle and he can feel his heart soar. The two of you have been so worried about Dylan, about what’s going to happen, and to see you so carefree has him overjoyed. He knows that you’re not out of the woods yet, knows that you still have to tell Dylan, but he feels hopeful and he knows that you feel it, too. He also feels love. An overwhelming, passionate love that he’s never felt before and it terrifies him to no end but it’s also comforting.

 

To know that you’ll be there in the morning, right beside him where he wants you to be for the rest of his life, and it sets him at ease. He whispers an, “I love you,” quiet in the darkness of the room, and when you return it, all feels right with the world.

 

And Luke keeps that feeling, deep in his bones, as he awakes and finds you sleeping soundly beside him. He keeps that feeling of peace, of happiness, in the center of his mind and hums along to the playlist on his phone as he works on making the blueberry waffles you always request. He keeps that happiness and swears it will never fade until he hears his front door open and the sound of shoes echoing in the hall.

 

The last thing he expected was to see Dylan so soon. He hadn’t heard from her in a few days, wasn’t expecting her until Sunday, and believed he had time to decide how to broach the subject. But there she is, standing in front of him with a smile on her lips and raised brows as she takes in the sight of him looking so domestic.

 

“Look at you,” she laughs as she places her phone on the counter and grins at him, “you’re making waffles? How did you know I’d be stopping by?”

 

“I didn’t,” he laughs, slipping into his role of father easily as he pushes the thoughts of you sleeping soundly in his bed from his mind, “what a coincidence. What are you doing here? I haven’t heard from you lately.”

 

“I needed to grab my tennis racket from the garage,” she informs him as she flashes the bright pink racket, “Alex and I are going to play with some friends. Are you making waffles for a lady friend?”

 

“None of your business,” Luke hums, nudging her shoulder as he moves around her to grab a plate. “I’ll make some for you and Alex, if you want. You can take them with you.”

 

“As good as that sounds,” Dylan hums as she grabs a blueberry from the bowl, “you don’t have to. We’re getting breakfast before we play. And I’m sure your lady friend wouldn’t want your breakfast interrupted by me. So, I’m heading out. We’re still on for breakfast Sunday, right?” Luke nods and she grins. “Great,” she hums as she moves to wrap her arms around his waist. “I’ll see you Sunday, then. Love you, dad.”

 

Luke opens his mouth to respond, to tell her that he loves her, too, but before he can speak, he’s interrupted by a soft curse. “That step gets me every time,” you sigh as you round the corner and step into the kitchen, completely oblivious to Dylan’s presence. “It blends in with the floor.”

 

Luke can feel Dylan tense as she takes in the sight of you, clad only in Luke’s t-shirt and a pair of panties with sleep mussed hair. It’s undeniable, the fact that you slept over, and Luke isn’t quite sure what to do as Dylan pulls away from him. She stares at you for a moment, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open, before she looks at Luke. It’s only when she breathes a quiet, “Wow,” that you turn around and notice her standing beside Luke.

 

If the situation wasn’t so serious, Luke would have laughed at the look on your face. Your eyes are wide, your mouth is open, and you vaguely resemble a child who has jus be caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. But Luke knows that now isn’t the time to laugh, that now isn’t the time to make a joke, so he just watches as Dylan stares blankly at the two of you.

 

“I honestly have no idea what to say right now,” Dylan sighs, finally breaking the thick silence that had enveloped the kitchen. “I know that I said I would want someone like you to date my dad,” she breathes, “but I didn’t mean _you_.” She pauses for a moment before she turns to face you and asks, “The older man, it is my dad, right?” When you nod hesitantly, she nods herself.

 

“I don’t like this,” she finally continues after a long moment of glancing between you and Luke. “I know that I said I would want my dad to be happy but it’s different when it’s real. You’re my best friend,” she directs at you, “and that’s my dad. I knew you had a crush on him but this is so different. Having a harmless crush and actually fucking my dad are two very different things.”

 

“Dylan,” Luke sighs as he reaches for her. Before he can touch her, she flinches away and shakes her head.

 

“No,” she breathes, “no. I know I need to, like, give you guys a chance to explain, but it’s really hard to even look at you both right now. This has been going on for six months. I was upset at you keeping secrets before but this is a lot.”

 

“D,” you breathe, your voice quiet and shaking as you try your hardest not to cry, “I’m so sorry. We were going to tell you but I’ve been so afraid of your reaction that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You’re my best friend and I love you. I want you in my life for as long as you’ll have me but I love Luke, too, and I see a future with him. He makes me really happy and this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in. I didn’t want to tell you because I know how weird this has to be for you. I was afraid that you would hate me, that you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore, and that was so selfish of me. I’m so sorry, D.”

 

Luke reaches out for Dylan once more and she shakes her head again. “That doesn’t really make it any better,” she laughs, the sound harsh and humorless. She hesitates for a moment before she asks, “That one issue you said you were hyper focused on last night, the one stopping you from discussing the future, that was me. Wasn’t it?”

 

When you nod, she sighs and turns to face Luke. “I heard what she had to say last night. What about you?”

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, sweetheart,” Luke sighs as he runs a hand through his curls. “I’m sorry that we kept this a secret from you for so long but I’m not sorry that we’re together. I love her, Dylan,” he breathes as he glances over at you. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I know that this is quite possibly one of the worst scenarios you ever could’ve imagined and I’m sorry. But this is very real to me, to us, and we never meant to hurt you. We both love you, we both want you to be a part of our lives, but we would also like to continue being in each other’s lives. Could you, at some point, be alright with us being together?”

 

“What happens if I couldn’t be?” she asks, glancing between the two of you.

 

“Then it’s over,” you answer, your voice quiet as you will the tears to stay at bay. “I don’t want to live without you in my life, D, and I don’t want to be without Luke but if I had to choose between me and Luke staying together or you and Luke remaining on good terms, I’d choose you and Luke any day. I won’t stand between one of the best father-daughter relationships I’ve ever seen.If us breaking up means you guys are okay, then so be it.”

 

Luke can feel his heart breaking as Dylan nods at your words. He hopes that she’ll at least try to be alright with the two of you but when she asks, “Do you really mean that?” he has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that she won’t.

 

“I do,” you nod, and Luke wants to reach out for you but he knows you’ll push him away in front of Dylan. When Dylan doesn’t respond, just stares at you, you nod once more and release a shaky breath. “I’m going to go change. I’ll be gone in a few minutes.”

 

As he watches you disappear up the stairs, Luke can’t help the few tears that spill down his own cheeks. He harshly rubs at the skin, his hands dragging down his face as he clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Dylan,” he sighs, his voice quiet and rough with emotion. “We didn’t mean to hurt you. I know that it’ll be hard,” he breathes, “but I hope that you can forgive us both some day. You mean the world to me and you mean more to her than I think you know. She’s been afraid of this since the beginning. I guess that should’ve meant we would’ve been better off not getting involved. But I don’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret her.”

 

Luke only stops speaking when he hears a quiet sniffle and turns to find you rushing past the kitchen. He steps around Dylan, his only thought being that the damage is already done and that he can’t let you leave like this. He calls your name, stopping you in your tracks, and feels his own tears spill when he sees the look on your face. “Come here, pretty girl,” he breathes as he reaches out for you. When you shake your head, he sighs and crosses the small distance between the two of you to wrap his arms around you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, even though it’s not. You can feel your heart shattering in your chest and you’ve never felt anything so painful. But you try your hardest to keep yourself together as you squeeze his arm and gently pry yourself away. You know that if you allow him to embrace you any longer, you’ll lose your nerve and won’t be able to leave so you nod and attempt to smile at him. “It’s okay, Lu. Really.”

 

“I love you,” he whispers and you feel your resolve crumbling quickly, “I love you so much.”

 

You nod, blinking back tears and swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know,” you whisper, “I love you, too.” You stare at him for a moment longer before you attempt another smile. “I’m sorry, Dylan,” you breathe as you glance up at her. “I hope that you can forgive me but I’ll understand if you can’t. I’ll send the bridesmaid dress back or have someone drop it off as soon as I can. I hope it isn’t too late for you to find someone else. Take care of each other. Love each other. I love you both.”

 

With that, you free yourself from Luke entirely and turn to leave only to be stopped by the sound of Dylan’s voice.

 

“Don’t,” she breathes, “don’t leave. Don’t send back the dress, don’t break up. It’s too late for me to find someone else but even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t want anyone else. You’re my best friend. This is weird and I don’t like it and I’m not sure I ever will but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re my person. I love you. I’m really upset that you didn’t tell me but I get it. I know you, babe. I know how you are and I know that this relationship has to be really important to you because you were fucking glowing last night. I’ve never seen you so happy to be with another person. You were afraid that telling me would end it all and I get it.”

 

She glances at Luke and sighs. “I get why you didn’t say anything, either,” she assures him. “This is really weird. Like, really fucking weird and uncomfortable, and I never want to see the two of you kiss or anything couple-y but I’ll try really hard to be okay with it. I want you to be happy, dad, and she makes you happy. I meant what I said when I said that I wanted you to be happy. She obviously makes you happy and that’s something I haven’t seen in a really long time. So, don’t break up. Make each other happy. I’ll learn to live with it.”

 

“D,” you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest, “are you sure?”

 

She nods and steps around Luke to wrap her arms around you. “I’m sure,” she breathes as she squeezes you. “You looked so happy last night and so heartbroken right now. I don’t want to ruin your happiness. You make my dad happy, he makes you happy. This is weird as fuck and I’ll keep repeating that but I’ll try my hardest to make peace with it. The fact that you were willing to throw away what you called the best relationship you’ve ever had for me means a lot. The fact that you put mine and dad’s relationship before your own means even more.You’re a good person, babe, and you deserve happiness. So, if you find that happiness in my dad, keep him.”

 

Dylan releases you and squeezes your arm gently. “I’m going to be really honest and say that this will take me a while to get used to so go easy on me until I can wrap my brain around it, okay?” When you nod, she smiles and turns to face Luke. “I know that usually I’m supposed to tell whoever you date this but tough shit,” she hums before she says, “you hurt her and you’ll hear from me. Be good to her, okay?”

 

Luke nods, too surprised by the change of heart to do anything else, before he wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you, sweetheart,” he breathes, his heart pounding in his chest, “thank you.”

 

“I love you, too,” she assures him, “I always will.” She glances between the two of you for a moment before she reaches around Luke and grabs her tennis racket from the counter. “I love you, too,” she informs you with a smile as she steps around you to leave the house. “And I expect you to be by my side at my wedding. I’ll see the two of you later, okay? Wait until I’m out of the house to kiss, please!”

 

Despite yourself, you laugh at this and watch as she disappears down the hall with a wave. When you hear the door shut, followed by her car door, you can’t help the borderline hysterical laugh that bubbles in your throat. Luke finds himself joining you, his laughter mixing with yours in the stillness of the house, and you can’t help yourself as you wrap your arms around his neck.

 

“I love you,” he whispers, his smile still present on his lips, “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too,” you nod, “so much. I’m so happy she’s going to try to be okay with this.”

 

Luke nods his agreement and smiles as he brushes his thumbs across your cheekbones. “I’m so happy to be with you, pretty girl,” he whispers, “thinking that you wouldn’t be in my life hurt more than I ever imagined it would. You’re it for me.”

 

You know that he means that, that he’s serious, and that sends your heart soaring. You nod your agreement and bury your face in the material of his t-shirt as you breathe, “You’re it for me, too, Lu.”

 

You’re not sure what new challenges the future will bring for the two of you, what new curveballs life will throw at you, but with Luke’s arms around your waist and his love in your heart, you know that you’ll be able to handle it. You have no more fears about what the morning will bring, only a clarity in your heart that this is where you’re supposed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I love this fic a lot, tbh.


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